As My Memory Rests
by Bolinlover123
Summary: In which a freak accident during a Pro-bending match with his team leaves Bolin with no memory of the last six years of his life. Stuck in time still thinking he is eleven, he yearns to find his thirteen year old brother who he thinks is still looking for him on the streets. This is an older brother's love to help his sibling remember who he is, and what they've fought so hard for.
1. Prologue and Accident

"_**Repressed**** memory** is a condition where a memory has been unconsciously blocked by an individual due to the high level of stress or trauma contained in that memory. Even though the individual cannot recall the memory, it may still be affecting them consciously."_

_._

_**"Amnesia** is referred to any instance in which memories stored in the long-term memory are completely or partially forgotten, usually due to brain injury. According to proponents of the existence of repressed memories, they may sometimes be recovered years or decades after the event, most often spontaneously, triggered by a particular smell, taste, or other identifier related to the lost memory, or via suggestion during psychotherapy."_

* * *

_Prologue-Who You Were Before_

* * *

Memory is a funny thing.

We can choose to savor the good moments, and regret the bad ones, all the while, each tiny fragment fabricates our lives, blured together in time and makes us who we are. Each bit and piece, no more important than the rest, and, if you take one instance away...who is to say you aren't the same person as before?

We can suppress the bad memories into the back of our minds; when something so horrible and painful threatens us, our defense mechanism kicks in- almost like our own personal Avatar State- and switches it like an 'off ' button, as if it _never happened._

But it did happen. You just can't recall it at the moment, but it's there. Always lingering in the back of your mind until it all comes back to you in a flash. Like waves crashing onto you. Like the earth crushing you, and the wind sucking air from your lungs. And you think, how in the world did I forget all this? How did I lose this part of me?

Memory is a funny thing. Always changing, blurry, never certain. Yet it makes us who we are.

But one thing is for sure.

You can't miss what you don't even remember.

.

Bolin knows this all too well.

* * *

_Mako's POV- watching from the audience._

* * *

_"BOLIN!"_

It's a freak accident- or they would like to assume so—two stray shots, both from the rival Earthbender, whizzing faster than any rock should go. You watch in barley contained paranoia as the first knocks off his helmet with a slight shatter of glass, and before the ref can call foul, another one whips around and strikes him on the side of the head. He's out instantly, unconscious before he hits the metal floor of the arena. The last thing you see before you and Korra give each other a panicked look and bolt down the isles to the field where he lay, is his new teammates trying to warn him about the second disk that cracks against his head so loud that you can practically hear it.

_"Ohhh...and he's OUT COLD, ladies and gentlemen!_" the announcer calls,"_Look's like Bolin's down for the count, folks! That had gotta hurt! How will the Fire Ferrets ever-"_

"-Would you just _shut up_ and call the darn hospital?!" Korra growls, sending a typhoon of water on top of him.

Before you can rush to his side, you hear,"Is...is he gonna be okay?" a timid voice.

You look up to see all the players staring at you both, and it takes Korra to hold you back from nearly strangling their Earthbender.

"_What the heck is the matter with you?_!" You scream at the boy, your hands heating up, _"You could have killed him!"_

"Mako, stop! Calm down!" Korra grunts, locking her arms around you.

But you can barely breathe, going slack and slumping down next to him. You hold him there as the red runs downs his hairline, and across his jaw and- _oh, thank the Spirits he's still breathing..._

His face is an eerie pale with closed lids, having somehow been spared the bits of glass from the broken helmet. You cradle him to your chest and murmur whispers of love in his ear that you know he can't hear, clenching his hand in your own and blocking out the sound of his scream right before the silence.

* * *

The rest of the day is a blur of watching the other team timidly leave, waiting for the hospital to arrive with stretchers as they carry him away from you, and you being forced to sit for hours in a waiting room that smells like vomit and blood and antiseptic and death.

Korra's hand on your shoulder makes you look up. A balding man in a white coat and wire glasses is standing over you, holding a clipboard with way too many papers and scribbles on it.

"You are..." he checks the clipboard, "'Mako' correct? Bolin's brother?"

You swallow and nod, "Yes."

The man nods curtly, flipping idly thought his papers.

"H-how is he?" you breathe out.

The man sighs and takes off his glasses, rubbing the bridge of his nose, "I'm not gonna lie to you kids; so far, it doesn't look very good." you're painfully aware as to how he averts his eyes from you, "He hasn't woken up yet, and while we have managed to stabilize him and stop the bleeding, he has some pretty severe head trauma. He's lucky not to be in a coma right now."

You let out a shaky breath and slump down in your chair, bones slack.

You try to control your breathing. The air in the room is thick and humid. The beeping down the hall blares in your ears like heartbeat.

_This wasn't supposed to happen. Not to Bo. No, he has to wake up, he-_

"So...so what does that mean, exactly?" Korra speaks for you both, "Can we go see him?"

The doctor looks at you both, the crease between his furrowed browns thickens as he rubs his face.

"As I said, he is still not in a very good condition. He is in room 214, you may go visit him, but...We won't know the..._side-affects_, until he wakes up. There are many things that can go wrong from a head trauma like his. Lack of memory, blindness...I just want you to be prepared."

You stare at the man with a white-knuckled grip on the chair, and try to look for any signs that he is lying. But, no, his gray eyes are tired and hold the brutal honesty of a man who has seen too many of his patients suffer and has had to give this speech more often than he'd like.

Through your daze, you sense Korra bow next to you and thank the doctor. You feel her grip your arm and allow her to lead you down the hall until the number '214' bores into your mind with its gleaming black paint.

"He's going to be okay, Mako." she whispers in your ear, but you don't believe her.

You turn the handle and hold your breath. The next thing you see is everything you are, dangling on an IV with a stained bandage wrapped around his head.

"_Bo..."_

* * *

_Next up, Bolin's POV!_ _Thanks everyone! :)_

_PS, warning you now that this is going to be a very angsty and emotional story, so bring tissues!_


	2. Stuck In My Head

Opening up your eyes was a lot harder than you thought it should be, as if your lashes were stuck together with glue, and your mind was swimming in last night's left over street gruel. You had no idea where you were or what had happened, thoughts escalating in panic as to why you weren't in the alley...but even thinking straight seemed to exhaust you.

Every part of your body ached.

Your heart pulsed to the beat of the monitor in the background of the blindingly white room, and you felt beads of perspiration begin to form on your heavily bandaged forehead. Uncomfortably so, the springs of the medical bed you reclined in pressed against all the wrong spots in your back; your legs dangling off the end made it clear you was either too tall for your age, or these crappy beds were children sized. Either way, you felt like you had just gotten a beating from the Triads, ten-fold.

The fact that you had an IV in your hand was beginning to bother you relentlessly. Probably do to the fact that you had never seen one before, and it made your palm feel like ice where the needle was tucked into the scared flesh, with no familiar heat to warm it with its love. You stared intently at the pinprick of red on your white palm where the syringe had been probed, and tried to drown out the pounding in your head.

Everything was wrong, and you _hurt_—the raw kind of hurt, where after a while the numbness starts to tingle and you know you need to start worrying.

But you were missing something...something important...why couldn't you remember?

_"Bo...?"_

You crane your head to the right, expecting to find _him_ there with a relieved expression and a plan to get you both back to the comfort of the allies before authorities show up.

But you don't see him.

Your brows furrow in confusion and your throat closes. An older boy standing in front of you with golden, red-rimmed eyes and tuffs of stubble dusting his chin, reaches his hand towered your shoulder.

Instinctively, you flinch. Set your face like you've been taught against threats. He could be Agni Kai, if he's a bender. He could be a social worker. He could-

"Bo?" he says again, seemingly startled at the cold response, "Hey, you okay? I was _so_ worried about you."

You blink. Once.

Then twice.

_No._ It couldn't be...

You shake your head, trying to make sense of something, _anything._

"Stop calling me that." you say, eyes narrowing, "I don't know what you're trying to pull, but it's not gonna work on me. Don't act like you care."

His mouth opens and closes for a moment, the amber in his eyes deepening, _"W-what?_...Trying to pull...? Bo, it's me!"

"Why are you calling me that?" you ask. "Seriously, it's not funny."

You can see his heart fall, "Calling you what?"

_"Bo."_

You now notice the girl behind him, as she gets up from her chair and comes over in cautious steps. She's all tan skin on top of lined muscled arms, and sea blues mixing in with puffy white-furred belts. They both share a look that says a million different things between their eyes, and then they both stare at you with more worry than you thought possible.

"B-because..." the boy breathes out, and a pained noise comes from the back of his throat, "Because that's your name. That's who you are. _Bo. Bolin." _his voice is cautious, gentle, but impossible not to sense the growing worry behind it." You're Bo_._"

That's it. These guys were not being funny. Nothing was making sense.

Something starts to spark in you, as the boy reaches for your hand again, but you pull away once more.

_"Only my brother calls me that_."

* * *

Mako's P.O.V.

* * *

_"Only my brother calls me that."_

You gasp and turn your head frantically towered Korra. She just looks at you with flickering eyes.

"But..." she begins. "This is your brother, Bolin! This is Mako! And I'm Korra!" raising her hands in the air, pointing frantically to each of you.

Then, some of the most horrible words you could ever hear come out of his mouth.

"I never knew a 'Korra' and how dare you say that _he_ is my brother!" the anger drips from his voice, and he gasps in pain, grinding his teeth with fingers clutching his head. "It's not possible..." he groans.

You both take a step closer, "Bolin-"

"-No! Get away from me! Don't touch me!" he screams, the heart monitor beeping faster.

"Bolin, calm down, please! Listen to me!" you try to hold his shoulders down, hug him- anything to get him to back to normal.

"No! Stop it! You're _not_ my brother! You don't think I know my own brother!? Where's Mako!? What did you do to him!?" he screams louder, the IV cord tangling.

"Bolin." Korra touches his shoulder lightly, and his breathing slows, a calmness relaxing his features. "Shh...it's okay, we just want to help you..."

"No...It can't be...You can't be my brother..." he mutters, closing his eyes and opening them as if he were trying to wake up.

"_Why_...why can't I be?" you whisper, your hands shaking.

_We won't know the...side-affects, until he wakes up. There are many things that can go wrong from a head trauma like his. Lack of memory, blindness...I just want you to be prepared._

"You...You look nothing like him. You're too old- you're, like, twenty." he tells you.

"I'm eighteen." You choke out, feeling a surge of tears well up in your eyes.

"Oh."

_Oh._

"Bo...please...I'm right here!" He flinches away.

"How old do you think you are?" Korra asks in a voice you've never heard before.

He blinks at you. "Think...? I know how old I am! Stop looking at me like I'm crazy!"

"I'm sorry. Please, just answer the question." she continues.

His eyes flick back between the both of you.

"I'm eleven."

Silence.

"And my brother is thirteen. I have to find him."

You stare at him. The lamp on the table starts to hiss with smoke, and crackle with a small flame.

But you still stare at him, willing with all your mind for that look in his eyes to have some recognition.

You see Korra instantly bend water from the sink and drench the bulb, the flame dying away.

The green in his eyes are flickering, and he grasps the sheets in his fingers.

You feel your mouth form the words, your voice sounds far away. "You think you're eleven."

* * *

You feel tears run down your cheeks and wish this guy would just stop staring at you and tell you where Mako is, because he is probably going crazy searching all over the city looking for you.

"Who...Who _are_ you people, and how do you know my name?"


	3. Who Am I?

_There are so many things that I don't understand_  
_There's a world within me that I cannot explain_  
_Many rooms to explore, but the doors look the same_  
_I am lost, I can't even remember my name_

_I've been, for sometime, looking for someone_  
_I need to know now_  
_Please tell me who I am_  
_  
_

_There are so many things that I don't understand_  
_There's a world within me that I cannot explain_  
_Many rooms to explore, but the doors look the same_  
_(where are the locks to try the key?)_  
_I am lost, I can't even remember my name_  
_(and I wonder why)_

_I've been, for sometime, looking for someone_  
_I need to know now_  
_Please tell me who I am_

_-Daft Punk:Within-_

* * *

To say that the last few days at the hospital had been _confusing_ and _stressful_, would be the understatement of the lifetime.

Time was spent in a hard bed, counting the drips that swam into your IV tube to drown out the color- bursting headaches and the red-scarfed, three pony-tailed visitors whose names they relentlessly insisted you knew. It was all worried stares set on you and stranger's hushed voices behind pulled curtains that smelled like rubbing alcohol, and tears that you refused to fall.

It was like a cycle that you couldn't stop. The guy would insist you were his brother- _that he was Mako_-each time with pleading looks and broken eyes that made you feel guilty for causing their hurt, and in turn you would deny it in some way.

Because there was _no way. _

_N_o _way_ that this guy could be your thirteen-year old street-hardened, skin and boned brother whose face let in no emotion, except to you in those moments of weakness during the sleepless hours of the night hidden in the bend of alleyways.

You sighed and rubbed your head once more, considering asking for the doctor and insisting that you were _fine_, that you could _leave-_and torn between just ripping the darn cord from your hand and making a run for it, the flat-lining heartbeat being the only evidence you were ever here.

But your head felt like it was stuffed with rocks, weighing heavily against your mused pillow, pricking with a pulse of its own around the back, and aching at the front where a crisscrossing pattern of stitching lined your sweaty temple, and-

Had anyone even said once what had happened or how you had gotten here?

It didn't look like you'd find out anytime soon.

You took a deep breath and tried to push up on your elbows, hands itching for the glass of water on the side table.

_Crap._

The curtain is jerked aside, revealing his worn looking face, yet not without a smile that you know must result from him seeing your eyes open.

"Hey," he says gently, "you're awake."

_I've been awake for hours_, you want to snap, but can't bear to see that broken look in his eyes again for some reason, _I was just staring at the ceiling so you wouldn't annoy me with questions every five seconds. _

So you nod and stretch, your good hand working its way to the glass in slow motion.

"Here," he replies too eagerly, instantly grasping the water and bringing it to you, "let me help. You need to rest."

"I can do it myself, thanks." you say, too tired to argue.

Fingers wrap around the cool glass, your swallows pushing the refreshing liquid down your raw throat, taking tiny sips to make him stay quiet longer.

You put the glass down.

He plays with the end of his scarf awkwardly, and something fills you with longing. Why did do many people have to have scarfs? A tiny spark of pain buds in you; Mako waiting for you in the alley, searching the city for you with Dad's scarf bunched around his ears, worrying himself into figure-eights, and _why isn't he here? Did this guy send him to the Orphanage?_

He opens his mouth, "So, how are you feeling? Does your head still hurt?"

You don't see the point in lying. "Like a ton of bricks." his eyebrows draw together. "Listen, I'm not normally a jerk, honestly. I appreciate your help, but I'm_ fine_. Really, I'm fine to leave. I gotta get back to my..." You look away.

From the corner of your eyes you see him bite his lip, and a weary sigh leaves his mouth.

"You still don't believe me," he asks slowly, crouching down on the side of the bed, looking you in the eyes, "do you?"

You shake your head, "I'm sorry. For your sake, I want to be who you want, but I'm not...I just...It's all so _confusing,_ and nothing is making sense to me," you go on, griping your head, fingers pressing against the bandage,"And half the time, I feel like I'm dreaming and if I close my eyes... I'll just wake up and be back in the alley, and my brother Mako will be right there next to me. But when I try to think, everything is so blurry and hurts..."

He looks at you for a moment with those damning amber eyes, inching a cautions hand to your shoulder, and, for the first time, you _let_ him- though you don't know why. "Let me help you, _please. _Ask me anything, and I swear I'll tell you. You can trust me."

"How do I _know_ I can trust you? You're a cop! How do I know you're not gonna put me in jail or send me away or something?"

"Do I look like the kind of person who would do that?" he dares.

You think for a moment. "You've given me no reason to think otherwise. You're a cop, someone we've spent out whole lives fearing. No offense, but you're a street kid's worst nightmare."

He lets out a self-deprecating laugh, "And here I thought all these years you were always the one to give the benefit of the doubt. The _one_ time I want you to trust someone, and my critical paranoia has rubbed off on you. At least you're being cautious."

You narrow your eyes,"...What are you talking about, man?"

He sighs, "For future reference, telling a cop you're homeless and insulting them, isn't gonna get them off your case."

"You probably already knew that, anyway, "you counter,"since you seemingly know all about me."

"True, but you wouldn't have mentioned that if you didn't already have at least some trust in me."

"Touche."

He chuckles, yet you see the pain behind his eyes.

His laugh reminds you of Mako.

You shake your head; that won't get you anywhere. But you have to say it. You have to get this out the sooner the better.

"Why do you think I'm your brother?" you whisper, fingers twisting in your lap, "I'm only eleven years old. You say you're eighteen, and if your brother is two years younger than you, well, I'm sorry, but that doesn't make any sense to me. I just- I'm not even a _bender._ I have never bent a thing in my life and- and you tell me we were on a Pro-bending team? No! No, I'm sorry, but this is all _wrong." _Your fingers grip the sheets," Everything's wrong. I'm not the person you think I am..."

"Bolin..."

_There are so many things that I don't understand_  
_There's a world within me that I cannot explain_  
_Many rooms to explore, but the doors look the same_  
_I am lost, I can't even remember my name_

You close your eyes. "Please, just stop...I keep telling you I'm not him. I'm not him! I don't- I _don't know you. _Whoever you are...These questions-I can't do this anymore. I just want to remember something-_anything_-but it's so hard. I just want my brother back, okay?" You can feel tears stinging your eyes, "_I just want Mako back."_

Suddenly, you feel his warm fingers grasp your face gently, thumbing away the tears, "Look at me, please." he breathes, "I never left you, Bo. I never will. _I'm right_ _here._ What's it gonna take for you to believe that _this is me_? I am Mako. _I am._"

"You can't be." You shake your head, " You're not him, I'm sorry."

He squeezes his eyes shut, "Damn it, Bolin!" he exclaims, and you jump, "_I am Mako_! I have the scarf!" he jabs a finger to his neck,"Look at the scarf- it's Dad's! Dad gave it to me the night he died!"

You look in your lap, voice a whisper, _"Lots of people have scarfs."_

He swallows, tears streaming down his face, "I even have the friggin' weird _eyebrows_ you used to tease me about! Remember, you used to say they were like eel-hounds!? Huh, remember that!?"

You just shake you head again, eyes boring holes in your lap.

_"No."_

_"You have to. _Something- anything._"_

_"_I can't. I don't."

"You're sixteen."

"I'm _eleven!_" Your voice raises now, anger spiking, "I know how old I am, and, well, if I honestly look sixteen to you, then you need some glasses, because I might not remember much of who I am right now, but my age I know for sure, okay?! What's your deal, pal?! Leave me the heck alone!"

His spins on his heels suddenly, hands behind his head, elbows by his ears, pacing. Your eyes flick left and right, as he wares a hole in the floor. Then, all of a sudden, he freezes and turns back to you.

_"Why is it so hard to believe it's me?" _his voice cracks.

"I want to...b-but I_ can't_...I can't believe you. I'm eleven. I can't remember, I'm sorry...I don't know you." Your throat closes up, and you _hate_ yourself for it. Because this stranger's pain should mean nothing to you, but you can't bear the heartache you're causing him.

"What more evidence do you need, Bo?" he wipes his hand across his face, eyes red,"What have you got to lose?"

"_Everything._" you reply, turning to face the wall, "Everything about myself that I don't remember."

"And I can _help you_." he stresses, "I can help you remember, if you'd just-"

"-I don't think you should come visit me anymore."

A pained noise comes from his throat, and he goes silent.

You watch the drip of the fluid swim into your IV, and imagine each drip is a second longer that Mako is wondering where you are.

You pull the covers over you, closing your eyes.

"I'm tired."

Silence.

"You should go back home. I'm sure you have people waiting for you." you mutter, and flick the light off.

Right before the door closes, you hear a scuffle at the threshold, and crack your eyes open just enough to see the slumped, shaking shoulders of his back.

He slowly unwinds the red scarf from his neck, and places it gently on the table.

He's turned away once more now, twitching gloved-fingers hovering over the door handle as he whispers in a broken voice:

"Where ever _you_ are is my home. The only one I'm waiting for is you." a sharp intake of breath, "I'd wait a lifetime for you. I'll wait as long as it takes."

The door shuts with a soft _click._

You feel more alone than ever, as you bunch the tear-stained blanket around you. The blood-red of the scarf stains the back of your mind as you gaze at it one last time from where it's bundled on the table. You have a strange wanting to bury your face in it, wrap it around you, but you force it down, because it's not _Dad's_ scarf, not _really. _Everyone has scarfs, really. He could have gotten it from any store. It's not_ his._

_Not Mako's, _no matter what this guy says.

You sigh before closing your eyes, hoping you don't forget your name by the time you wake up.

_"I'm sorry..."_

_I've been, for sometime, looking for someone_  
_I need to know now_  
_Please tell me who I am_

* * *

.

_Oh, God, I made myself cry! Why I do this?! :(_

_._

_Hey, guys! Sorry that was so depressing...the next one will be a lot more action-y and Bolin will leave the hospital. I will also have multiple parts! Tell me what you think! :)_


	4. Identity Crisis

_"Forgetting who you are is so much more complicated than simply forgetting your name. It's also forgetting your dreams. Your aspirations. What makes you happy. What you pray you'll never have to live without. It's meeting yourself for the first time, and not being sure of your first impression." _  
___― Jessica Brody, 'Unremembered'_

* * *

He doesn't show up at your room the next morning.

Despite this being your request, you don't know what to feel. One minute you _hate_ him, want him to leave you alone and stop trying to be your brother. But then, for reasons you still do not understand, you want to cry for him, because you can sense his pain...and that _you_ are its cause. You think you hate yourself most of all, and you barely even know who '_yourself'_ is.

You wake to find the girl- _what was her name, again? _Korra- _The Avatar-_ Avatar Korra- slouched on one of the plastic chairs just on the other side of the curtain; neck craned at an odd angle, cheek propped in her hand, as a tiny sliver of drool pools in the corner of her mouth.

You can't help but smile- the Avatar-she- Korra- is _gorgeous._ All tanned skin, and wide hips, sea-blue eyes that show innocence, yet the weight of the world in them at the same time.

You _want_ her, and this strange feeling in your stomach confuses you to no end. Because she's too old for you- seventeen. And hadn't you always thought girls were gross...? Besides, you can tell just by how Korra and him stand by each other that they are in love; their subtle touches whispering promises and their shared glazes combining like a heartbeat.

The Cycle starts up with her asking how you are feeling, and you shrug with the usual lie of _"I'm fine,_" and she nods, whether she believes you or not. She asks what you remember and you tell her '_nothing, really_.' Just the darkness, the confusion. Just the ugly smell of the street, and the hunger in your stomach, and the missing of your parents, and endless worry of where, where, _where's Mako?_

You don't really tell her that last part.

Because the truth is that you don't know who you are or what has happened. It's as if you were in the alley, stomach pleading under your ragged shirt, waiting for Mako-and you woke up here. _That's it._ When you try to recall anything before that, or between, the darkness surrounds you like shadows, pressing into your skull until it throbs, echoing with a crack and the sound of your name being screamed right before the silence with frayed and fading edges.

So you try to only think a little bit at a time, lest you lose your sanity altogether.

It had been the same Cycle for the past four days.

Untill you had seen your reflection.

"Bolin?"

You snap your eyes to her.

"Do you trust me?"

You think, with pressing guilt and shifting doubt, pins pricking your temple.

It was different than him asking _Do you believe me?_

Because you believing him would make you doubt everything that you know- or at least you_ think_ you still know. Take everything that you _think_ you remember, and turn it into a horrible truth.

It would mean you have forgotten six years of your life with Mako, and-no, _no,_ you refuse to_ believe_ that.

Trust and Believe are two very different things.

She is looking at you now with concerned, questioning eyes that look _one of a kind. _Besides, she won't send you away, she is not a threat- you at least hope. What have you to fear from the Avatar?

"I..." you say, and make yourself look straight at her, "Yes. I do trust you."

She smiles, and her face softens with relief.

"Then, would you do something for me?"

You give her a questioning look, as she plops a bag on the edge of the bed.

She plucks her hand inside, pulling out a _mirror._ A small, circular sheet of glass, no bigger than your hand, but vast enough to show the opposite side of the world through it.

"Why do you have a mirror?"

"You know why." is all she says.

"No!" you push her hands away, "No, I..."

"You said you trusted me."

"I did!" You exclaim frantically, " I-I do! But-"

_"-Then see yourself through our eyes."_

You swallow, and nod. Hands shaking as she slowly places the smooth, reflective surface in your palms.

You make your hands move the mirror to your face.

Skin, all wide-jawed and sharp-cheeked with the years of adolescence, and with hair all combed back and short, instead of wild locks of inky cobwebs, shine back at you. Aside from a purplish bruise on your cheek and the stitching lining your temple, your skin is smooth and not caked in dirt. You have muscles under tight skin, contrasting sharply to the skin and bones of your body that you once could see every crevice of.

This was not your body.

Not the one you _remembered_, anyway.

You don't know why tears are pooling in your eyes, or why your lips are trembling, but you shake your head and put the mirror down.

"This...this is me?" you ask.

"That depends on what you believe." she dares. "We love you, Bolin. I'm your best friend. Mako- he's worried sick about you. He won't sleep, eat-do anything." She puts a hand on your shoulder, "Does this help you remember anything? Anything at all?"

"I..." You close your eyes, "_no_. It's..it's _scary_. I don't recognize my own face. It's like I'm in a different body," your voice is thin and wavering, as you touch your fingers to the bruised flesh of your cheek, and watch as the mirror does the same,"I don't feel sixteen. I-I...why can't I _remember anything,_ Korra? What's _wrong_ with me?" and your head has somehow found its way to her shoulder.

"Shhh..." she cradles you in her arms, and you can swear that it's Mako's comforting words, instead of her's, "Shhh...It's going to be okay, Bolin...There is nothing wrong with you."

"I...I really am sixteen, aren't I?"

"That's only something you can decide for yourself."

"_How?_ Please tell me how." Your voice cracks.

"By believing us."

"I...I _can't._ I'm too scared to say it. Because if I say it..."

"It'll make it real?" you feel her breath tickle your ear. You nod against her chest.

Her arms tighten around you, and you know this is what it means to be loved by another human being besides your brother.

"Someone I care about very deeply," she murmurs, "told me that it's okay to be afraid. That it makes us _human_. He said that if we don't admit our fears, they can through us out of balance."

"I just want to know who I am..." you whisper.

"That's why you have us."

"Us? No. Just you. I pushed him away." you say bitterly, though your tears, "I told him to leave. He probably hates me now. I deserve it, too."

"Oh, Bolin..." she rubs your back, "You don't really think that, I know you don't."

"Yes, I do." you wipe your face and sit back up, sitting next to her,"I still don't know if he's my brother- if he's really Mako. But I'm _trying._ I'm trying to _believe._ I really am. It's just so hard, Korra..."

"Trying is all we ask for."

* * *

He comes back in the gleaming hours of the afternoon, all weary-faced with smudges blooming under his eyes from lack of sleep, looking odd without his scarf that somehow, you have already associated to be morphed around his neck.

It's the first time since you've arrived at the hospital- since your accident that you have yet to be informed the details of- that you are starting to walk around. Your limbs keep switching between jelly and lead, feet meeting the floor in odd, slightly wobbly steps.

He comes in silently, gaze flicking to the mirror on the bed, and back to your face, eyes questioning and pleading.

Korra smiles beside you, and you take a moment to look at them both, deciding what to say.

"I look sixteen." your voice echoes in the quiet room.

His shoulders fall from their tensed position, as if you can slowly see the paranoid worry start to leave him.

"I...I'm _trying_ to believe I am sixteen right now. It's really hard, and I still don't remember anything..." you look to the floor and let your heart speak, "It's like I just woke up from being in an alley, starving, waiting for my brother, and opened my eyes to find myself here. But I figured...you were right, about letting you help me. Even if I don't necessarily believe you're _him_ right now, I have to try to start to remember at some point. Besides," you lift your eyes to meet his, and turn your lips up into the first smile since you can remember,"what have I got to lose? I could use some friends."

A breathy laugh leaves his mouth, as he smiles, "Really? So you'll come home with me?"

"I have nowhere else to go besides the streets," you say, "and I trust you now. Yeah. I'll come with you."

* * *

The apartment is above the Pro-bending Arena, which he persistently tells you that you both performed in on a team called the 'Fire Ferrets'-name in honor of Pabu, whom of which you had rescued from a nasty pet store when you were fourteen- after you were saved from the streets.

You feel bad for telling him again that you aren't a bender when you see that broken look in his eyes once more. You've never bent a thing in your life...but you find it's easier to nod, and hurts less both mentally and physically when you listen, and try not to think about it all at once too much.

"How many years?" you ask as you ascend up the vast stairs into a small living space.

"Huh? he turns to face you.

"I-I mean..." the darkness in your mind presses against your skull, swimming in you head with dancing shadows as you blink repeatedly for a moment.

_Flash_; loud, blaring lights

_Flash;_ cheers of thousands of people.

Flash; 'Round Two goes to the Tigerdillos!'

_'Crack!'_

_"Ugh..._" your fingers grinding into your head, your breathing is heavy in your ears.

"Bo? Hey, you okay?" your vision clears to see his brows furrowed above you with the touch of his hand on your shoulder, "Bo...?"

" I..." You close your eyes and shake your head, trying to focus. "Y-yeah...Yeah, I'm fine. Um...I mean- how many years has it been...since you lived here and got saved from the street?"

The look on his face makes you think you've said the wrong thing, for you can practically see his throat constrict with emotion as he frowns.

He sighs, "It's been...a little over a year now since then."

_"Oh." _something twists your gut.

"What?"

"That means I have four more years on the streets..."

He blinks, "What...? This is your home, Bo." he says gently, "What do you mean 'four more years'? You're sixteen...remember?"

Your mouth falls open. "_Oh._ Right! Sorry. I-I'm _sixteen_. Sorry, I forgot..."

"Bo..." he breathes, "I thought you understood that...You said you saw the mirror..."

You look away, shame filling you. "I did! I mean.._.It's hard._..I know I 'look' it. But I don't- don't _'feel_' it! I have to keep looking in the mirror, and every time I do, I get scared because I don't recognize myself! It feels like no time has passed, and that a week ago I was still shivering in the allies; homeless, alone, hungry...Everything is so _confusing,_ and you keep telling me all these things- I can't keep track of it all, and- and - " you grab your head, feeling the stitching scratch your fingers, "I feel like my head is going to _explode,_ and- and..." you exclaim all at once, breathing fast.

"_Hey.._.hey, shhhh..." he strides over to you in a heartbeat, arms wrapped around you, and fingers in your hair, "Shhh...take a deep breath. It's okay. We'll take it slow, okay? One step at a time," he murmurs in your ear, "We'll get through this together."

"Together?"

"Together. " his head rubs against your neck, "You don't have to remember it all in one night. And if it's too much at once, or your head hurts, tell me and we can take a break." his voice drips love and loyalty so pure your eyes start to sting, "And, you'll never be on the streets or go hungry again, if I have anything to say about it. I promise you that, Bo. You're never alone. You're safe here. I'll always take care of you..."

You let out a shaky breath, as your let go of your embrace, and smile, which he returns.

"So, how about we have some dinner. You must be hungry, huh?"

You nod frantically.

He chuckles, and you know you've done something right.

His laugh reminds you of Mako.

But somehow, you like _his_ laughter better right now.

As he starts the burner on the stove, you wander to the window where the lights dance off the glass, and the stars shine stories back at you from the sky.

"_Wow..."_ your breath fogs the glass, your face scrunched up against it in awe, "Look at the view! I can see why people love it here- it's like you can see the whole city! Everyone looks like buzzard-ants!"

"Yeah, I know. You can see the most amazing sunrises from this spot..."

Something sizzles in the pan, sweet spices that start to waft around the room.

"Must be nice to live here..." you mutter.

His sigh reaches your ears, and he says something under his breath that you don't quite catch.

"Hey, dinner's ready!" he calls as he gets out two dishes.

He freezes when he sees the way you're staring at the dish.

"What is it?"

"I-Nothing..." you shake your head.

His brows furrow, "No, tell me, please."

"It's just...did I _like_ jook...?"

He stares at you for a moment, not giving an answer.

When he speaks, his voice is calm and gentle, yet holding a certain firmness.

"Only you can decide that for yourself."

You blink at him, and look down at the spoonfuls of white in the pan. The butter looking sweet and rich, the spices tingling your nose with the beads of rice. A thought crosses your mind: if you _really had_ lived here...he wouldn't have made you something you didn't like, _right?_

You hold out your dish to him with a smile, "May I have extra pork, please?"

His smile is so big, you can almost feel you belong here.

* * *

After dinner, you tell him you need to go for a walk.

Surprisingly, he lets you, yet you can tell he has a fear of leaving you alone. Though, you think he understands that you need time by yourself.

You had to leave, and let yourself think- or_ not_ think.

Because the truth is, you wander a city that looks exactly the same, yet you are completely different and empty at the same time.

You are a name that you could not recall upon waking for the first time, until someone you thought you _never_ knew, addressed you as such. You are an empty mind in a body that you do not recognize, at an age that you feel you have not yet reached. You are a stranger to a sad, scarfed boy who claims you are his brother. A famous Pro-bender, when you have never created a single spark of flame, or floated a single rock in your life. A friend of the Avatar, when a _week_ ago, people would shun or scoff at you as you huddled in an alleyway, folding in on yourself.

_Who are you?_

You are a shadow; lost, dark, the blurriness pressing into your mind, the emptiness taking away all the years others have claimed you have lived, and cannot recall.

You are living, but not _alive._

You simply '_are'_

Trying to feel alive and remember something- _anything_, you wind your way through the streets and alleys in a daze, dragging your dirt-engraved fingers across the rusted metal-wired fence as you walk, listening to the echoing clad and feeling the bite of the cold metal bump and fade against your flesh. You push the heel of your palm against the crisscrossing wires, and watch as a red imprint etches into the darkened skin, and slowly fades away.

As you bend down, you pluck up a handful of dirt, swishing the muddy particles around with the pads of your thumb and fore-finger, you realize that this is the closest to being Earth Kingdom you have ever felt in a long time.

You ask yourself haunting thoughts that hind in the frayed edges of your mind, ones your heart it too afraid to show.

Was it possible? Could you really be an Earthbender?

Could this really be your life?

.

.

.

Could _he_ really be...

_._

_._

_._

_Mako?_


	5. I Believe in Love

_Like the fluttering moths wings_  
_Beating at the edge of my mind._  
_The fragile chains of my illusion_  
_To despair do they cling , and bind._

_A lost memory is floating_  
_In the murky depths of my soul_

_On the rippling tide of my uncertainty_  
_They ebb further into the_ _shadows_  
_Where I am afraid to go_

_Grasping at the gossamer threads that hold me_  
_Caught in a web of deception, and shame._  
_Trapped like the elusive moth, I struggle to be free_  
_Of this gilded cage, for I can not remember who to blame. _

_Can someone please release me? _  
___Remind me of who I am._

___"Unknown"_

* * *

___PS- I think everyone knows these few upcoming lyrics, but if not: "Losing your Memory"-Ryan Star_

* * *

_-Mako-_

* * *

You sigh wearily, and fold into yourself on the couch.

This could not be happening.

For the first time since your parents died, you allow the tears to fall shamelessly from your red-rimmed eyes. Because for Bolin, there is no shame in your pain.

But what was the _point_-through all the suffering, all the endless nights going hungry, all the tears for your parents, and the running from Police and Triads, until one day, nine years later, you were granted freedom in the form of a Spirit-send Toza, claiming a home and life of Pro-bending finally for your own-what did it all matter if Bolin still thought it hadn't ended? What was the _point_ of what you've both fought so hard for, if Bolin could not remember you as being there along side him all this time? If the light in his eyes fades every time he looks at you, and doesn't show any sign of recognition in those broken emeralds, yet only buries deeper into himself?

_The damage is done..._

You could kiss away the tears, fight away the monsters, patch up the cuts and scraps, heat away the shivers, take care of every sickness-but _this_...this you didn't know how to help him through.

_The Police are coming too slow now..._

_I would have died..._

Because, in the end, you know the one he is fighting, is_ himself. _And in the end, you can't _save_ him from_ himself._

_I would have loved you all my life..._

And that kills you most of all.

Because he still thinks you're out there, looking for him.

But you're right here! Right here, and,_ I'm right here, Bo! Look at me! I'll tell you anything, anything you want._

_You're losing your memory now..._

But he never asks, because he still doesn't believe.

_You're losing your memory now..._

_'I just wan't you to be prepared." the doctor had said._

How can you possibly be 'prepared' for something like this?

From the darkness of his mind that shows a battle in his eyes every time he looks at you, and speaks, but doesn't address you by your name. Not once has he addressed you by your name. And you can see the fear in him, the confusion that he is trying to hide for your sake. The startled, barley contained jumps when he passes by the wall mirror and sees another person moving in his spot, when the sound of your voice saying,_ 'Bo, Bo'_ doesn't match the pitch of your younger self. When his eyes and fingers linger just a second too long on a spot in the room or an object with this far away look, knuckles digging into his head, and you think,_ really_ think, he is remembering something, but all he does is go back to looking lost, with confused blinking, and furrowed brows.

_You're losing your memory now..._

_You're losing your m_e_mory now..._

_You're losing your memory..._

_Now._

You scrub a hand across your face, and glance at the clock on the side table.

You curse. It's midnight. He's been gone for two hours. You _know_ you shouldn't have let him go! What were you thinking?! Letting your amnesic brother go out in the city?! He probably forgot how to get back here. He probably-

You shut off the part of your brain that tells you all the horrible possibilities that can go wrong, and force yourself up from the couch.

Your little brother needs you. Now more than ever.

Weather it's the you _now_, or the thirteen-year old you, you don't care.

You made a promise to your parents, to him, since day one.

He needs you.

You grab your keys off the coffee table, and your motorcycle helmet from the bottom of the stairs.

_"I'm_ _coming_,_ little brother..."_

* * *

_-Bolin-_

* * *

You're in a trance, letting some force guide you through the twisting underbelly of the city that looks only half familiar to you. Your feet sloshing though puddles and dusting up trash in your daze. Needles prick your brain, strings move your limbs like a puppet, and you still have no idea where you're going. You hear a voice, calling you with whispers of love and sparkling amber eyes, and, _this way, Bo, sweetie, this way, come to Mommy, you're almost there..._

But then, you suddenly tense with fear in the bottom of your stomach. Why are you going this way? This is the bad part of town. This isn't the way Mako told you to go and,

_Bolin, come back, it's a trap! Where are you!? Bo! BO!_

You spin around when you see movement run by the opening in the alley, a drop of red trailing in the wind.

_"_Mako?" You call, "_Mako,_ I'm over here!" and you start running to the other end, "Oh, Mako, thank goodness I found you! I've been looking every-"

But Shin snakes out of the shadows with a lopsided grin on his face, the red scarf bunched in his bony, scarred hands.

You freeze, taking a step back.

"S-shin?" you stutter

He gestures with the nod of his head, eyes slanting like a cat-owl's, _"Oh, hey, Rocky. Been lookin' all o'va for ya."_

"M-me?" Your eyes flick to the red bundle, anger spiking, "_Where's Mako?"_

He clucks his tongue to the side of his mouth, with a chuckle that sends shivers down your spin, "_Kid's just doing some security work for the Big_ _Man_." he says,_ "Nothing crooked. Say, Rocky, I got an offer for ya. I mean, since you're _eleven_ now, and_ finally _have your bending- don't know what took ya so long, by the way, since your bro became a Fire Cracker when he was eight. 'bout time you started pulling your weight and helping your fellow Triad's out."_

Your eyes go wide, your stomach clenching, "What...? Shin, what do you mean? I've never bent a thing in my life." You shake your head, "Mako told me to stay away from the Threats. Even If I wanted to, I couldn't...I'm useless with no bending..."

Shin just makes a face at you that is a mixture between confusion, pity, and amusement, _"Ya bet'cha you are. Gotta stop being a burden to the kid and pick up some slack. You better do it fast, too, 'cause sooner or later he's gonna leave ya like all the older 'sibs do. Surprised he hadn't done it sooner. But, by Spirits," _he whistles with a smile, _"the things I can make that kid do just by saying your name...the most fun I've had in a while..."_

You shutter and swallow back a glob in your throat, "...Why do you have his scarf? Did you threaten him with it?"

He raises his eyebrows, looking down at the fabric as if he forgot it was there, "_Oh, this old thing?_" he sniffs, "_This ain't his."_

"It's not?" you whisper, feeling the sky dance.

He rests his weight on his hip, and shoves a hand in his pocket.

_"Lot's of people have scarfs, kid._"

Colors burst in your eyes then, the feel of blood-red, sticky on your fingers, and the fuzz of the rest of Daddy's love wrapped around your neck.

The blue of Shin's clothes pop and fade against your mind like the ebbing of waves, and the yellow of his teeth shine at you as he waves a hand in your face, _"Hey, you okay, kid? You better hurry or you're gonna be late for your match."_

.

.

.

"W-what? I just told you, I can't bend..." You look at him and take a step back.

_"Oh."_ then the most pain you ever thought possible passes across the gangster's face, _"Kid, I'm so sorry...I can't believe that that monster took your bending away..."_

You _snap_ then, pain and anger blooming in you like Poison Ivy, spreading through your veins.

"What the _hell_ are you talking about!? I'm a non-bender!" you scream, hands fisting, "Why does nobody get that?! I never had my bending 'taken away'; that's not even possible! Would someone just tell me something that makes sense for once!?

_"Everything makes sense, kid. Time is an illusion. It's just a matter of what you believe._"

"By, Agni, what does _that_ mean?!" You've never felt so angry and fierce. You don't know what's the matter with you. You can see the few stay people on the sidewalk at this hour, pausing and staring at you.

"What are you looking at, huh?" you exclaim, "Never seen a homeless kid before?"

They quickly look away and keep walking.

You turn back to the Waterbender, "Shin, please, you gotta help me. You gotta help me find Mako and tell me what's going on."

But he says nothing, gaze just fixed on you.

"Shin?"

You reach out your hand, slowly, finger's twitching towered his shoulder-

and his whole body starts to_ flicker_ and _fade,_ translucent and like a Spirit. He starts to fade until nothing is there, not even a trace that you were ever talking to him.

Your mouth opens; you can feel your eyes dilating. You shake your head, shaky steps going back until you hit the wall.

_"No..._" your mouth forms the words, _" No..."_ your head pulses, the stitching scratching your temple, cracking your mind. "I'm not crazy..." Lights blind your vision, and,

_Flash;_ a dirty building filled with smoke and crooked looking gangsters rimmed in gold chains and pointed boots.

_Flash; _Kids huddled in corners, stashes of bills stuffed in their pants, and bags filled with powder.

_Flash;_ Blood-red eyes and yellow teeth. '_Welcome to the Triads, boys. Name's Zolt. Lightning Bolt Zolt. Just remember you made a promise, and that means you can never leave, got it?'_ his hands heat up with a crackle of flames,_ 'You don't wanna_ _know what happens to those who try.'_

_Flash;_

_Flash;_

_Flash;_ Mako's pained voice: '_I'm sorry, Bo...'_

"_Ahhh!_" you grab your head, "_NO! Get out of my head!"_

You stumble forward, off the wall, and start running, running, _running,_ down the alleys, and a little boy is next to you in your panicked pursuit, running in the same direction; tears and snot running down his face, smearing the grime already coated there on pudgy cheeks. You watch as another hand of a slightly older- looking boy drags the green-eyed one along, yanking, with fear in his eyes, '_C'mon, we gotta go NOW!'_ The older one tugging at the crying boy's arm until he screams in protest, and the brother snaps his head up and around, eyes searching over the his little brother's shoulder for any sign of the approaching enemy, eyes filled with paralyzing terror that turns his flames to ice. Red dots the side of his face, rough with a scrape that tore the skin, and vaguely you realize that the littler boy looks _a lot_ like you.

You freeze and call them, "Hey, you two! Wait up, I can help you!"

But either they don't hear you, or are too afraid, because they just start running again. And the two of them start barreling down the twisting alleys as fast as they can, and you have a strong feeling that overwhelms you with pain, because whoever is after them is bad, _really_ bad, looking to harm, and if they get caught, they're in big, big, _big_ trouble._  
_

So they better run; fast, fast, _fast,_ and you hear, _"Mako, stop, my feet hurt!"_

And it's then that you realize that the little boy _is_ you, and other one is _Mako,_ and your world spins; sky dancing, ground swimming.

_"Ahhhhhh!"_ Darkness, darkness, all around you. You're scratching your head; scratch, scratch, _scratch._ You feel a wetness running down your head where the lining stitched the skin of your temple together.

A piercing hum meets your ears, then a roar, followed by a blare of blinding lights in your face.

"BOLIN! BOLIN, STOP! Calm _down!_"

You want to run, but all you know is that there are are too many voices in your head; and the one that just screamed your name sounds so real and so _like Mako_ that you _can't take it_ anymore, and you squeeze you head so tight that you see stars in the shade of amber, and feel the softest kind of red around your neck.

And you can't breathe because this isn't real, _this isn't real_ and-

"I- have- to -find -Mako," You whimper, rocking back and forth against the wall, "I have to find Mako...You- you're not real...not real, not real, _not real..._"

The voice tells you that you're safe, that Mako is here, that he _is real_. That the voice_ is_ Mako. But you don't remember what Mako's voice sounds like, so you just dig your fingers into head more because everything _hurts_ and you have to _wake up_, you're going crazy and-

"NO! STOP! GET OUTTA MY HEAD!" you scream, trying to get out of its grasp, "STOP SHOWING ME THESE THINGS! YOU'RE NOT MAKO! YOU'RE NOT REAL! I'M NOT CRAZY! GIVE ME MY BROTHER!

You fight against the voice, hands flailing and the pebbles shaking. Something keeps grabbing your arms, keeps trying to caress your face. And you hit, hit,_ hit,_ yell, yell, _yell,_ because you need it to leave you alone, because it's not real and-

"Bo, _calm down!_..Ugh! Ahh, Bo...shhh...Bolin, please, it's me, Mako! BO, STOP! Snap out of it! It's _Mako_!"

You hear something explode above you, feel dust coating your back, and tiny bits of rocks falling on you, but you don't understand how the rock got up there. The voice grips you harder, shielding you from the sharp pieces.

"Please just make it stop..." you cry, your cheeks wet. "Just make it all. _Stop._.."

"Shhh..._I'm here_...I'm here, little brother..." the voice whispers, and it sounds, very, very sad. You think the voice must be crying because you can feel more wetness on you.

You're afraid of the voice, but you still don't want it to cry.

_"Why won't you let me find my brother...?"_

And you feel the voice put its arms around you, and you can almost believe it's Mako's arms.

* * *

-Mako-

* * *

You don't know what to do as he struggles against you, unconsciously trembling rocks as they explode into dust and pebbles; him screaming and crying and hitting you all at once, feeling like he is falling apart. He keeps saying he isn't crazy, that you aren't real, and that kills you inside more than anyone could ever know. He's scratched the stitching so much that it is bleeding again, and you don't know how to save him from himself.

You haven't felt so helpless since you were eight. You're crying for so many things, you don't know how to dry the tears.

He's finally calming down from his anger now, all energy spent as he cries in your arms, whispering for you to make it stop, for whoever he believes you are to make it go away.

You thought you were finally getting though to him.

But you just grip him tighter and whisper, even though your voice is cracking, " Shhh...I'm here...I'm here, little brother..."

_I never left._

"_It h-hurts so much_," his voice breaths against your ear, "I-I-I keep _s-seeing_ things, and I don't know what-what's_ r-real_ anymore...Please tell me I'm not going crazy..."

Your breath hitches in your throat, and you squeeze your eyes tight.

You hear your mother's soft voice, singing lullabies of love tucked under the softness of sheets, amber eyes glistening.

You hear your voice before you process that you have opened your mouth:

_'Leaves f-from the vinnnneeeee..._

_Falling s-so sloowwww_

His shaking is slowing down, his whimpers quieting.

_Like fragile-f-fragile tiny shells_

_drifting on the foam..._

His fingers grip your shirt, his breathing evening, as you rub your hand along his hair.

_Littlllleee...soldier boy..._

_Come marching home..._

You look down to feel the soft touch of his trembling fingers intertwining with your yours. The first time he has touched you freely.

_B-brave soldier boy..._

_Comes marching hooommmee...'_

"Oh, dear, Spirits- _dear, Spirits it really is you..._" and he's crying again, head buried in your chest.

You put your fingers in his hair and swallow, "It's me, little brother. I never left, I promise you."

"_M-mako_...I- dear Agni...it's you...I-I thought I _lost_ you...I... I'm sorry. _I'm so sorry. I still don't remember anything, but I'm sorry."_

You sigh, "There is nothing to forgive. I said I'd wait a lifetime for you, and I will. We're gonna get your memories back, Bo, I promise. It's gonna be okay, Bo."

"Please make the things go away...Why won't they _leave me alone_?" He cries.

"Shhh..._they_ are what's not real, Bo. It's only in your mind."

"How do I make it go away, then?" he pleads, and your heart breaks all over again.

"By letting me help you."

"Spirits... Mako, help me.._.Help me._..Please," he breathes. "say my name again. Say '_Bo._'"

"It's okay, _Bo._ I'm never gonna leave you, _Bo._ I love you, _Bo._"

He laughs a little deprecating, bitter laugh. "You're Mako. It's really you. _You're Mako._"

"It's really me, Bo. We're brothers. We'll get through this mess, I promise. Maybe you won't get your memories back today, or tomorrow, or next week, or even next month-"

"-So. _Not._ Helping." he grumbles into your shirt.

You smile a small smile and rub away his drying tears, and then your own,"But we'll get thought it together. Like we always have, and always will, okay?"

Silence.

Then, "_Mako?"_

"Agni, you don't know how much I've missed hearing you say my name," you kiss his hair, "Yeah, buddy, what is it?"

.

.

.

"I know we will." he says, "Because I _believe _you."

"Oh, Bo..."

"I could never forget how much I love you."

_"Bo.._." you whisper, and crush him into you.

_A lost memory is floating_  
_In the murky depths of my soul_

_On the rippling tide of my uncertainty_  
_They ebb further into the_ _shadows_  
_Where I am afraid to go_

_Can someone please release me? _  
_Remind me of who I am._

* * *

To be continued...


	6. Pieces of Me

_Is my imagination running away or is all this really happening to me?_  
_Am I a prince in a far-away land filled with fantasy?_

_Where is reality and what are the actions that will define who I am?_  
_I am holding on to the visions I've seen of what I could be_  
_It's what I should be_

_More than it seems these dreams inside blur reality's line_  
_If I could believe the dreams aside, I am capable more than it seems_

_Passing through darkness into my own world_  
_Will I be more than when I left, be more than when I left?_  
_Never letting go of the lessons I've learned, this will make a change_  
_A change within me_

_'More Than it Seems'-Kutles_

* * *

He- Mako- _when were you going to finally understand that?_- manages to lead you through the blurry streets by the flame of his hand and the blaze of his heart, guiding you along until that glowing beacon of yellow and gold comes into view, and you feel your heart swell.

"This is our home, Bo_,_" he breathes as you approach the bridge, his grip tightening on your hand, and for the first time since you've woken up, you feel _hope_ bud in you.

"Is it amazing?," you choose your words carefully, "I mean...having a home? It is everything we hoped it would be?"

You realize now that you are addressing him as if you believe him. As if it is you two against the world. As if he is your brother.

And you are okay with this. This _believing. _You promised them you would try, and that's something you aren't going to break.

_What have you got to lose?_

"Yeah..." he says, "It is..."

As you walk up the steps, you touch the railing, and get a quick flash of rags and buckets of water in the edges of your mind. The smell of soap and floor-shiner fills your nostrils, and two silhouettes are kneeled on the floor, their bodies blurry, rubbing the wood to a shine. A sturdy man is standing there in the background: _I knew you boys had potential when I saw you. We could really get a good team going._

You gasp and step back, nearly falling down the stairs, bones going rigid for a second. It's quick, but powerful;bursting sounds and colors and smells onto your senses.

"Bo!" But he-_Mako_- is right behind you, holding you by the shoulders, preventing you from tumbling down.

You shake your head, and breath heavily through your mouth, trying to get the lingering bitterness to leave your nose, and your vision to stop dancing.

He gently leads you up the remaining stairs, and unto the couch, where you fall slack against the cushions.

And he come to sit next to you, concerned, yet giving you breathing room.

"Hey," he asks gently, "You okay? What did you see?"

You suck in a deep breath,"I-I...I'm not sure...I mean, it was quick, and kinda blurry, but really overpowering..."

He nods his head, giving you all the time you need, "I don't know what happened, really." you close your eyes and concentrate, "I touched the handle...and I got these flashes of all t-these cleaning supplies. These two silhouettes were kinda blurry. I-I couldn't tell who-who they were, but they seemed to be cleaning the floor. I smelt lots of soup, and dust and dirt..." you look up at him now, "There was this man in the background;he was talking to them. Said they had potential. And something- something about a team...Ugh...That's it really. Do you know what it means?"

And he surprises you by smiling, his teeth showing white and his eyes going soft.

"Bolin, that's a _good_ thing!" he exclaims, wrapping his arms around you for a quick hug, then releasing, "It means you're starting to remember more stuff!"

You blink, "O-kay...B-but what exactly did I remember...? I'm confused."

"Who do you think those two people were?" he asks knowingly.

"I don't know..." You say," You're the one who remembers!"

"Bolin." he says, "C'mon, you're not even trying. You said you wanted to remember!"

"I _am_ trying! But they must have been benders to be on a team, and I'm _not_ a bender, Mako!"

He looks at you for a moment, brows furrowed and eyes hard, before he looks away.

"What...?" You ask, feeling guilty, "I'm sorry. You're right. I didn't mean to upset you..."

"No..." he sighs, "It's okay...I just..."

The disappointment in his voice kills you.

After a moment, you look down in your lap, and whisper, "They were _us_, weren't they? Those two boys?"

He snaps his face to you again, awe and pleading in his eyes.

You close your eyes, and try. Really, really, _try._

"And that man-Toza? He was Toza, wasn't he? That was us when he first rescued us, and we must have been cleaning one of the rooms...right?"

You open your eyes, and find him looking right at you, amber eyes flickering.

"What do you think?" he dares, "It has to be more than me just telling you 'yes' or 'no'. You have to believe it. You have to trust yourself."

"That's easy for you to say," you mutter, burying your face in your hands. "You _know_ who you_ are. _What you like, what you feel, what you can do. You have a life full of moments and memories...I couldn't..." you feel your throat constrict. "I couldn't even remember my _own name_ until you said it," you whisper, and feel his arms on your neck.

_"Bo..._"

You find a bitter laugh coming from your mouth, "'_Bo.'_ You call me that, but I have no idea who that person is supposed to be. Who's this '_Bo'_ person, who feels like he's eleven, but is really sixteen, and can't remember a quarter of his life? T-that's why I just kept staring at you, because I didn't know who you were, or who I was. I figured if you knew me, then I must know you...but at the time I just..." a shaky sigh leaves your mouth. "I didn't know anything... I mean, what kind of person forgets his own _name?"_

_"_Someone, " he says quietly, "who is feeling very lost and confused, but has no reason to blame himself for this, and has people who loves him to help him through anything."

You look at him with sad eyes, feeling the tears begin to sting.

"I'm sorry, Bo." you hear him say quietly, and feel him pull you into a hug.

"Why? You didn't do anything..."

"I'm sorry this had to happen, that you're feeling so lost." he tells you, "I'm trying my best to help, but I feel so helpless..."

You open your eyes, and rub your face, "At least I have you, right? We have each other. As long as that never changes, we'll be okay, no matter how old we are."

He smiles, and ruffles you hair, "There's the optimistic little brother I know and love..."

You both end the hug, and take the edge of his scarf in your fingers, and rub the soft fabric between them, "Mako? Those boys- they _were_ us. I know it. Even if I didn't see thier faces or anything. It has to be."

His face softens to much, he looks like the happiest person in the world. "Yeah, buddy. You're right." then, "We've been up all night- it's, like, two in the morning now. We better get to bed."

"There's no way I'll be able to sleep tonight," you pout.

"Just try, okay? Try for me, at least? You'll be exhausted tomorrow if you don't."

You sigh, and rub your head, feeling everything in it bounce around.

"Okay, Mako."

He smiles, and it's the smile that you know you've seen before.

_Trying is all we ask for._

"I'll try."

* * *

You _are_ exhausted, you realize as you get ready for bed.

Your eyes linger wearily at the bed on the left side of the room; the pillow looking fluffy, the blanket, soft. But, you take the pillow and blanket from the bed, and curl up on the floor with them, finding the wood is a more familiar feeling. Years of sleeping in alleyways and benches, and wherever else you could find, take a lot to overcome the force of habit of.

You place the mirror in your hand, underneath the blankets, before he can see.

You see Mako gaze at you are he gets into his own bed; he doesn't _verbally_ question your choice of sleeping place, at least, because you think he understands.

"Comfy down there?" he asks.

"Hmmm...snug as a bug."

He gives you this sympathetic look, leaning on his elbows, looking over the edge.

"They won't bite, you know. We both did the same thing for the first two weeks. I guess we kinda thought it was too good to be true, you know? Having a home, finally free. But once we both eventually got over the oddness of it, and tried out the beds, and had the best sleep of our lives. Or, at least _I_ did." he muses and you see this far away look in his eyes, as you listen intently. He suddenly starts to chuckle,"The second night we used the beds, you jumped on yours so much that the pillow exploded." he grin and chuckles make you feel so accepted, "There were feathers _everywhere._ Pabu kept chasing them, and ran into a wall."

As if to prove this, the Fire Ferret gives a little chirp from where he is curled up on the edge of your feet.

"Really?" you ask, "Wow..."

"Yeah...but enough for tonight. Good night, Bo."

"Good night, Mako. I love you."

The light flicks off, and you place the mirror on your heart, for when you lose your face in your dreams.

* * *

You open your eyes as the sun shines on your face, and crane your neck over to see the clock read that it is a quarter past noon. Normally you'd hate- or at least _think_ you'd hate- to sleep the day away; always raising with the sun. But the fact that you hadn't gone to sleep until about two- thirty in the morning, seems to justify the wasted hours.

Mako is not here, you observe, as you stretch and make your way downstairs.

A unfamiliar voice catches your ears, and makes you freeze on the stairs.

"...So, what are you planning on doing, Mako? The more time that passes, the less likely it is that he's going to get better."

Your blood runs cold, as shivers of guilt go through you.

You are only down a few steps, but from your perspective, you can twist your body to see him, and a tall, raven-haired girl, in a black work suit who happens to smell like a mixture of motor-oil and lilacs at the same time, sitting at the kitchen table. They cannot see you.

"Don't you think I_ know_ that, Asami?" he snaps, and you wince, hating the anger you hear in him.

_Asami? Who's Asami?_

"I'm trying everything! Do you know how hard it was just to get him to trust me, and get him to believe I was his _brother_!? That I- the eighteen- year old me- was Mako, and that he wasn't out there looking for him? He still forgets that he's not eleven, sometimes. I mean-" ,and you see him frantically rub a hand through his hair, "he slept with the _mirror,_ Asami. Was does that tell you? That he still doesn't recognize himself? He's still skeptical of telling me things. He was always to trusting..."

"Mako..."

Your eyes go wide. He saw the mirror? You thought you had hidden it!

The girl-_Asami-_ comes over, and puts her hand on his shoulder, "He was unconscious for three days, right? And stayed in the hospital for a week?" Mako nods, "I may not know a lot about health, or psychology, but...try to look at this from his point of view. He's scared, Mako. Scared, and confused, and doesn't know who to trust, or who he is. It's not you. It's not your fault, so you have to stop blaming yourself for this."

"That's just it," he grits his teeth, and you see his hands fist on the table, "It _is_ my fault."

"Mako, stop. You can't keep-"

"-It's my fault, Asami! I'm his big brother; I'm supposed to protect him! If I hadn't been so selfish, and left the team, I could have been with him and stopped those disks from hitting him, somehow! I could have prevented him from getting hurt! I should have been there! I should have-"

"-Mako...Shhh...It's okay..." and you watch as she brings him close, and lets him bury his head in her shoulder. You sense a strained, yet budding friendship between them, and pain in her eyes that tells you she wishes she could have more of him in a way that only Korra can. "It's going to be okay..."

"No, it's not." he mutters, and something breaks in you, hearing him be so hopeless, when all you've ever heard him say to you are of hope and encouragement. "Korra said it would be, and then he had no idea who I was. He told me-" and you see him swallow as his voice grows quieter, "he told me that he couldn't remember his _own name_ at first. _His own damn name, Asami_. And no matter how many times I tell him we were on a Pro-bending team, he always says that he's not a bender...I don't know what else to say to him..."

You lean on the edge of the railing, heart pounding. She sighs, and chews on her lip, and you know it's the face people make when they are trying not to cry. She tightens her grip on him, and places her hand on his head. After a moment of silence, you hear her say, "I don't remember much of my mother, but she once told me, '_It's hard when you_'_ve lost someone you love, but even harder to love someone who is lost_.'"

"What does that mean?" he asks quietly.

"It means neither of you are alone. Isn't that what you told me the night I had to go against my father? Isn't that what you told me when people were harassing me for being a non-bender, and still friends with the Avatar and her Krew?"

He says nothing.

"Well?" she exclaims, "Isn't it?"

"What do you want from me, Asami?" he says desperately, "I just want my little brother back."

"I want to hear you say it."

"I..." he clears his throat, "I'm not alone..."

"Good. Because it's not going to get better unless you stay positive. Bolin needs you now, Mako. More than ever. More than in your whole lives. If you give up, he's just going to bury more into himself and never get his memories back. You're a big brother, Mako. But you also have friends. I don't wanna have to remind you of that again." she says sternly, yet a smile spreads across her red lips

"Asami?" he says, "Thanks."

"Anytime."

Breath heaving with pressing guilt, and wobbly knees, you make your way up the remaining steps, unseen. You collapse on your bed, scrubbing away the tears.

"I'm sorry, Mako..."

How could you not know it was your brother? How could you forget six years of your life? How could you forget who you are?

_Who are you?_

Who.

Are.

You?

The confusion and guilt cram in your brain so tight, you want to rip your head apart. You want to take these darn stitches out. You want to-

You hear your yell muffled by the pillow before you have time to realize you have stuffed your head into it, or even opened your mouth.

You can't take it anymore. You have to _know._

Tonight.

You have to know what happened to you, and who you are. You have to know how exactly you lost your memories, and what is so significant about your eleventh year that you feel trapped inside that moment in time.

You're going to ask Mako what happened tonight before you go to bed.

If you're really a bender. If you ever did bad stuff with the Triad.

_Anything._

You grab your hand mirror from where you left it tucked under the bottom right corner of your mattress.

A thought crosses your mind as you gaze at your reflection. If you really were-_are-_ an Earthbender...shouldn't you be able to bend the glass...? Glass was made from some amount of sand, right? And if you were a Sandbender...

No, it couldn't be possible...

_Mako? Those boys- they were us. I know it. Even if I didn't see thier faces or anything. It has to be._

Your eyes flicker over the smooth surface...

The minerals in it...each little speck...

Then suddenly, your vision goes dark. Blasts of Fire and Water are in all directions. Benders in odd suits on the opposite side of a court. A score board comes into focus, and says that The Tigerdillos are winning: eleven to nothing.

_Flash_; loud, blaring lights

_Flash;_ cheers of thousands of people.

Flash; 'Round Two goes to the Tigerdillos!'

A bone-shattering crack on the back of your head. A numbing-crack against your temple; glass splintering on your face.

_'Crack!'_

_"BOLIN!"_

_Flash_;Pain

Pain.

_Pain_.

Darkness.

_"Gahhhhhh!"_

Your gasping for breath on the floor as you come to, curling in on yourself, holding your head, body covered in a cold sweat.

You force yourself back up, and lunge for the mirror.

But, when you lock your eyes upon it-your blood runs cold.

Cracks line it like the web of a spider-rat's. The pieces rugged, and splintered.

And, as you look at the pieces, you unmistakably count _six._

_Six_ pieces of glass.

And you could swear, in each of the six pieces, you see a face. _Six_ different faces, each with green eyes, and black hair with a little curl; each slightly different, slightly older than the last, as if showing your face for every year you can't remember.

And you stare at the mirror, your palm slightly pitched with red now, you crush the glass to dust in your hand.

You don't need it anymore.

You're sixteen.

And you're going to remember.

* * *

_Hey, everyone! Thanks for reading this far! Next chapter, Korra and them are gonna try to teach Bo how to Earthbend! Maybe even try to reenact a Pro-bending match with the original Fire Ferrets, and have a sneaky little street-rat as a guest star for the opposing team..._

_Hmmmmm... :)_

_Questions, comments, concerns?!_

_Please review! Thank you! :)_


	7. Learn from Yesterday, Hope for Tomorrow

_"If you want to find the trail, if you want to find yourself, you must explore your dreams alone. You must grow at a slow pace in a dark cocoon of loneliness so you can fly like wind, like wings, when you awaken." _  
_― Francesca Lia Block, Dangerous Angels_

* * *

The thumping on the stairs is followed by your name being called, and the door flinging open.

Mako and the girl rush in, looking concerned and frantic.

"Bolin, what happened?" he exclaims, "We heard you yell!"

You freeze and try to explain, "I-I, um...n-no, I'm fine, really!"

His brows furrow, and he doesn't look convinced, "But you cried out..." he says, stepping towered you, "You sure you're okay?"

"Yeah... Um, yes, just got spooked is all..."

Okay, so you weren't _really_ lying.

Just then, the girl-_what was her name again?_-gasps and looks down, "Bolin your hand's bleeding! There's glass in it."

Mako's eyes go wide, "_What?_" he sees the broken bits and red spotting your palm, "What happened? What did you do to your mirror?"

"Oh...I crushed it." you say simply, and they stare at you. You wince, guessing that was a bad choice of words.

"...Why?" he asks, concern and confusion growing palpable on their faces.

"Um..." you try to explain, "'cause it got all cracks in it- six. And there were six of my faces, and they kinda were all different, but still the same, and I was wondering if it was made of sand- the glass, not my faces. But, um, so I didn't need it anymore, 'cause even though it cracked, it was a good kinda crack, and..."

They are blinking at you now, and making you feel slightly crazy.

"The mirror cracked because you broke it?" the girl asks, her fingers tentatively picking up your hand to examine it. You flinch, and draw it back.

You shake your head, "No...It cracked beforehand."

They share a confused look, and Mako's lips thin.

After a moment, he takes your shoulder and says, "C'mon, Bo, let's go clean it up."

You step back, "No, I'm fine! It's doesn't need-"

"-Bolin." he says in a voice that vaguely makes you sense it's a tone used for no nonsense. "There is glass in your hand. It's bleeding, and you might need stitches."

"No!" you exclaim, other hand going to your temple, were the lining is still knitted, "No more stitches!"

"Then let me patch it up for you," he says gently, voice softening, seeing your fear,"and you won't need them, okay?"

"But..."

"Hey...Would I ever hurt you?"

"Of course not." you tell him. _Trust._

He smiles, "No, of course not. C'mon, lets go get the med-kit."

* * *

You _hate_ when people stare at you.

If there is one thing you can remember about your life from Before You Were Eleven, it is the Looks passerby would give you as you huddled in an ally, or a street corner; ragged- clothed, shaggy-haired. You were a nuisance; too pathetic to be bothered with your smelly clothes, and slimy fingers that plucked everything in sight if you weren't watching your purses or bags enough. You were a sad, pitiful sight; their faces puckered in pity, but too busy to do anything about. Or hateful, disgusted glares shot your way that said you were going nowhere in life but locked behind bars and were a disgrace to a once thriving city that the Avatar created.

But the worse part were the stares. Because the stares, followed by eyes going back to whatever they were doing before, made you feel invisible as the looked at you and just kept going. And the comments and pointing from the little kids, saying, _Mommy, look! What's wrong with that boy? Why's he in the ally just sitting there?_

Most times the parents would slush their child and tell them to be polite, or come up with some sugar-coated excuse. But sometimes, they just ignored the question, as if it wasn't even worth it.

As if _you_ weren't even worth it and-

_darkness._

You shiver, as your vision focuses back on the sting of the alcohol pad that Mako swipes across your palm, bits of red-tipped glass on the little plate.

"Sorry..." he mutters when you hiss, pieces puckering your skin from tweezers.

You tell yourself that that part of your life is over now-the Before Eleven Years. It's time to try to remember all the After Years, that are a blank, empty fog.

The girl- _you still can't remember her name, and you know Mako said it earlier_- is still staring at you- or having a very difficult time trying not to- as she sits on the chair to your left.

You _really_ wish she would stop staring at you.

You bring your head to Mako's ear, "Why does she keep staring at me?" you whisper, "I don't like it...Did I do something wrong?"

He spares a quick glance back, then says quietly, lips turning into a small smile, "Don't worry. That's Asami, our friend. She's just worried about you and probably just doesn't know what to say. Why don't you try talking to her?" he finishes wrapping the bandage on your hand.

"Talk to her?" you grumble, "And say what? 'Hey, my name is Bolin. But you already knew that, 'cause everybody but myself seems to know me'? That'll go over real well."

He sighs, "Bo...You always used to be so trusting..."

This makes something twist your gut, and you look away, "I'm sorry. You're right. I just...I'm _so frustrated_ with myself that I want to scream until I can't talk..."he gives you a pitying look, "How do I introduce myself to someone who already knows me?"

"Well, only one way to find out." he says with an encouraging pat on your shoulder.

You sigh, and hop off the bench, making your way to her.

You take a deep breath, "H-hey..my name's Bolin. You're, um, _Asami,_ right?"

You swallow, feeling your hands twitch at your sides.

She looks up, and a small smile curls her red lips, "Yep, that's me. How are you feeling, Bolin?"

You blink. "Oh, my hand?" you look at it,"Thank's, but it's nothing really..."

"No," she shakes her head, "I mean, in general. Have you been getting any memories lately?"

The bluntness of her question makes you nerves, "Um..." you are painfully aware of Mako's eyes behind you, "Kinda...They're kinda blurry and uncomfortable...b-but I'm getting some more, I think."

"That's good!" she stands up, putting her arms around you. You start, but then return the embrace, "We were all so worried about you..."

"Yeah...So I've heard..." You mumble sadly into her hair.

"Don't worry, it's gonna be okay, Bolin." she says.

You just nod and close your eyes, trying to_ believe._

It's been three days since you have come home. You were unconscious for three days, and stayed in the hospital for a week.

_Eleven_, you shiver. It's been eleven days since the accident that you have yet to be told about.

Asami's words to Mako haunt you,

_The more time that passes, the less likely it is that he's going to get better._

She smiles sadly at you as you let go of the hug. You're tired of people looking at you like you're a charity case.

You think it is very strange to have to reintroduce yourself to someone you who already knows you. Will you have to do this with everyone?

Will this be your life now, having to start all over? What if you never-

You close your eyes again and frown, taking a deep breath, your legs feeling wobbly.

"You okay, Bo?" Mako asks. "Do you need to sit down?"

"No," you lie. "I'm fine," even though the doubts of never remembering your past, numb you to the core.

But you_ try._

You try to _try,_ and you try to _believe, _and you try to_ trust._

Trusting others might not be so bad, and besides, you think you could use some friends.

Friends and trying and trust and believing, and sixteen.

You open your eyes, and find them looking at you again.

"Bo?"

_What have you got to lose?_

_"I'm trying."_ is all you have the strength to say.

* * *

You run as fast as you can to the other side of Yue Bay, needing a temporary escape.

You sink into the water from off the balcony, and float there on your back. Letting the liquid seep into your clothes, and the chill to numb your busting mind;you float, and float, and let your body drift, just breathing and trying not to think _at all._

But all you _do_ is think, and wonder.

So, you drift, and ebb, and imagine yourself, for just one moment, sinking, and watching the air bubbles flow out of your mouth...

Because, do you still truly exist if no one cares? If you have no memory, and there are no moments to occupy the life of which you've been given?

You are living, but not alive. You are a brain with no activity, a soul with no_ identity._

_'I know well what I am fleeing from, but not what I am in search of.'_

_-Michel de Montaigne_

You simply _'are.' _Your mind lost at sea; your thoughts as tangible as the waves, and crashing down with a force enough to carry you away, eroding the edges of your heart.

You float, and float, then, find yourself screaming, arms and legs trashing in your anger, stringing up wild splashes.

"I HATE ELEVEN!"

You are aware of the heads that turn to the screaming boy in the bay, but, for once, you don't care about the stares.

Suddenly, you send your body straight up, then down.

You plunge yourself in, and come back up in a fast, icy-angry wave,"Remember!"

Plunge...

.

Up.

"Remember!"

Plunge...

.

Up.

_"Remember!"_

Plunge.

.

Down.

Down, down, _down._

.

.

.

Up.

"REMEEEMMMBBBERRRRRRRR!"

.

You float again, your back to the water, breathes panting, eyes squinting against the sun reflecting off the waves, as if to remind you of the part of you that has Fire in your veins.

What is the matter with you?

_You're trying..._

Feeling defeat threatening to sink you, you swim back to shore with clothes sticking to your skin, and your hair plastered to your face.

"What's his problem?" a voice says as you pass by, coming out of the water,"Hey, wait a minute...isn't that Avatar Korra's friend...? What's his name...Bolin!"

You walk faster, and wish you were an Airbender, so you could disappear.

* * *

He gets up frantically from the couch before you can get your full body up through the full opening in the floor.

"Bolin!" he exclaims, "Where were you? I was getting worried! Are you oka-why are you soaking wet...?"

You sigh, and run a hand through your tangles of hair, "I needed some time alone."

"Well, jeez," he says as he flings a towel at you that he retrieves from the closet, "What did you do? Jump in the bay?"

"Would it matter if I did?"

He blinks, ..."Well, no, but...",he looks out the window for a second, down at the water, and then back to you, "The water's freezing. You could get sick."

"I don't think my physical health is my top priority here at the moment, don't you?"

His mouth opens, then closes, looking a bit shocked. You sense from his expression, that you normally weren't- or aren't- this blunt or sarcastic, but given the circumstances, you have a right to be frustrated.

"Was I a good Earthbender?" you blurt out.

"Bol-

"-And _please_ don't ask me if I believe it or not, because I can't decide anything for myself right now, and I need someone to give an honest answer and tell me something, and you promised me you'd tell me anything I asked, so _please tell me." _You exclaim all at once.

He looks at you for a moment, "I did promise." he says. "You were- are-...a great one, in my opinion. You progressed so much from when you first started."

"When did I start?"

He takes a deep breath, "I think you need to sit down for this..."

"When did I start? Tell me."

You see him close his eyes, and when he looks at you, his eyes hold pain that flickers like the sun.

.

.

.

_"Eleven."_

Your throat closes, your heart starts to pump.

"W-what?"

"Bo...I know this is a lot to take in." he says as he steps closer, "Let's just sit down and talk about this, okay?"

You shake your head, stepping back, "Is-is that why Shin told me he wanted me to work for the Triads at that age the other day? 'cause I would be useful then?"

"You..." he swallows, "Yes, that's why. But, 'the other day'? What do you mean? He talked to you then?" his voice starts to get angry. "I told him to stay away from you!"

"N-no...Not the other day, it wasn't _really_ him..." you try to make him understand, "I only _thought_ it was him. I was just seeing things; weird, chopped up memories, I guess..."

His face softens, "He's one of the things you meant when you said you were seeing things?"

"Yes, but..." you look away, "It only happened that once time. It was only because I couldn't tell that they weren't memories. I thought he was actually there, and I was really talking to him..."

He is looking at you very concerned, and you hate it. You feel crazy enough as it is.

"Stop looking at me like that! I feel crazy enough as it is!"

"I'm sorry, " he says, stepping closer.

He takes your shoulder gently, and you allow him to lead you to the couch, your wet clothes, soaking the pillows.

"Are you sure you're ready to know what happened?" he asks slowly, looking at you.

"You mean, the accident?"

He nods.

You suck in a breath, and finger your stitches for a moment.

_Flash;_ 'CRACK!'

'BOLIN!"

.

_"Tell me."_

Silence is shared between you both for a moment, the drips from your clothes counting the silent seconds.

He rubs a hand across his face. "It was one of the worst days of my life- worst_ three_ days of my life; just waiting for you to wake up, not knowing if you were gonna be okay, or what the side-affects would be..."

"I was out for three days?" you ask quietly.

He nods again, "We- Korra and I- were watching in the audience as you and your new team played in a match..." he bites his lip, "It...I don't know what happened! No one did. It was a freak thing- the ref didn't even have time to call foul. I-I..." he sighs, "The earth disks from the other team were going too fast, hit at a bizarre angle...I...the next thing I knew, you were crying out in pain as a disk shattered the glass of your helmet, and knocked it clean off. The second one came from behind, and cracked the back of your head so hard I could practically hear it. You didn't yell the second time, 'cause you were already out." he makes a sound from the back of his throat like he is trying not to cry, "You just fell, and stayed there, so still...The whole crowd just stopped, everyone was quiet...Korra and I rushed down there, and we called the hospital. You were in such bad shape, Bo..." he closes his eyes, "I thought I was gonna _lose_ you..."

He looks at you now, the tears falling anyway, "_I was so scared..."_

_"_Mako..."

"Please don't scare me like that again..." he says quietly, as you wrap your arms around him.

"I'm sorry," you say, "It was my fault! I was the Earthbender! I should have been able to stop them!"

"No, Bo, this isn't your fault! Don't you dare-"

"-That's just it, Mako! It _was_ my fault! It was my element, right? Then I should have been able to bend them and protect myself!"

"Bo, stop it, okay? It was a freak thing. No one knew what happened. There was no way you could have had anytime to react! I swear to you that it's not your fault."

You just press you head in his shoulder and let some tears flow.

"I'm sorry, Mako..."

"Shh...It's not your fault...It's okay..."

"It's not your fault either, you know." you whisper, "You're a big brother, but you're human, too."

You feel him stiffen in your arms, then, quietly, "Thank's, Bo..."

After a few seconds, you've finally made up your mind.

You _have_ to.

It's the only way. The determination in you can't be stopped.

"Mako?"

"Yeah?"

"I have to do it again." you state, clenching your fists. "It's the only way."

"Do what?"

"_Earthbend._" you tell him, "I have to learn to Earthbend again. I'm going to do whatever it takes to remember who I am, _no matter what_."

* * *

**Hey, everyone! Sorry, I PROMISE that they teach Bo to bend, and have the re-make of the match, and Schoochy comes next chapter, okay? I just felt like it needed one** **more chapter beforehand, leading up! :)**

**I think I will have two or three more chapters left! Please tell me what you think!**


	8. Of Dirt and Place

_-You're not who you believe you are,_

_amnesia takes control._

_These memories so fond, so meaningful,_

_broken and bare now since you were told._

_The lies your mind tells you are the truth of things,_

_the truths you hear from others are bittersweet lies._

_You ask why the ones you hate live,_

_when really you do not understand what it means to die._

_Disturbed and lost, parallel to the ground;_

_a mirror of your former self hovers above as your head bleeds with a frown._

_That isn't you, yet the mirror says it is,_

_who are you really; are you now dead?_

_Call yourself what you must,_

_classify the whispers in your h_e_ad as a disability in such a rush._

_The voices will never stop,_

_you know not what you are._

_Amnesia or not,_

_your conscience will have the same scar.-_

_'Unknown': Anonymous_

* * *

_"Bolin."_

You snap your head up at the sound of your name being said, and it takes you a moment longer than you'd like for you to process that it is being stated by another unfamiliar voice, and that you are expected to answer it.

"Oh, um." you blink, brows furrowing, as your mind snaps out of your daze filled with the bright lights and beeping around the room, "I'm sorry. What did you say?"

"I asked you how you were feeling." The doctor replies once more, with a kind voice that sounds with endless patience. He seems to mumble something to himself and scribble notes on his paper.

"Oh." you state dumbly again, feeling stupid that you are taking so long to process everything. But your mind is swimming with all the _newness. _If that makes any sense at all.

"I'm...um, fine. I guess." You don't know how to respond, because honestly, what are you supposed to say?

_Since when have you ever been fine? Since before you were six?_ But you just kinda think this in your head.

The doctor just nods once more and takes this down on paper, and _why_ is he still staring at you as if you were a broken record, and if he nods one more time, you are going to-

_Breathe._

In.

Out.

These calming techniques he stated for when you grow frustrated, seem to be doing little help. And you hate having to do them in front of Mako because then he knows that you really aren't okay and-

"Bolin."

Mako's voice.

You open your eyes, and find that you have closed them, your fingers rubbing against the new bumpy pink flesh of your palm where the glass cut it.

You can't rub your stitches anymore for comfort, because they were taken out this morning- and you really never understood why feeling them seemed to comfort you...

Maybe because it was just another proof as to what had happened, to keep you from feeling crazy?

The doctor called it a Trigger. Something that kept bringing you back to those memories.

You kinda wish he'd kept them in.

You shake your head. Nonsense; why in the world would you want to keep darn stitches in your head?

Yeah, you aren't crazy at all.

"Bo, are you even listening?" Mako's voice brings you back again, voice tinged with slight agitation, yet you see the concern on his face.

But you don't need the stitches you think, because you have Mako. The doctor says that Mako is your Constant. One continuing object or person that never leaves, and keeps you in the here and now to Ground you.

Or, at least tries to.

"Hi, Mako." you say out of nowhere.

Mako is your Constant.

"...Hey, Bo." he looks confused, "You with us over there, buddy?"

"Oh, yes, sorry!" you straighten up in your chair, "Sorry, was just a little spacey..." you blush.

"We can see that." Mako replies.

The doctor clears his throat. "So, Bolin, tell me. Has this 'spacing out' been happening a lot lately, or has it started to increase more often recently? Tell me how you've been feeling; I am here to help you."

_That isn't you, yet the mirror says it is,_

_who are you really; are you now dead?_

_"_S-sometimes, it happens._.._I feel...weird...like I'm floating..." the words leave an odd taste in your mouth.

_These memories so fond, so meaningful,_

_broken and bare now since you were told._

_"'Floating,'" _he repeats, and there goes his pencil once more.

But really, it's your mind that's floating. Floating and swimming, crashing between blurry flashes, and long stretches of vast darkness. Switching between the chill of the long alleyways where you huddle in single digits, and the hot, protective flame of Mako, and years that you cannot recall that belong to the Bolin Of Before Eleven.

Bolin of Before Eleven.

The Bolin of Before Eleven keeps whispering doubt in your ears, denying your wide-jawed, toned-muscled body of adolescence that the mirror shows you.

He says the mirror is lying, that it's trying to trick you.

He says _these peopl_e are trying to trick you.

_Are you really gonna believe these con people? Look at them, they want to send you away! The guy's a cop. Pretty soon, you'll be in an Orphanage, shipped off to some Earth Kingdom farm. Go find Mako. He's looking for you._

'No, you're wrong'_, _you tell him.

_Deny it all you want, but you know I'm right. You're eleven. Are you gonna really let these guys fool you? Hustle or get hustled, Mako always tells you, _he sneers in your ear_, you're being hustled, Bolin._

'No, I'm not. Just leave me alone.'

_You're eleven._

_Eleven._

'I'm sixteen! You don't know me, so just be quiet!'

_Oh, but, Bolin, _the Bolin of Before Eleven smiles, sweetly, yet his eyes gleam from the reflective surface of the window,_ How can I not know you when we are the same person? How can I not know you when you don't even know yourself?_

_'Shut up.'_

Your hands start to twitch. Your breathing heavies.

"Bo?"

_Go to Mako. Find him._

_Find him._

_"Shut up," _you mutter, loudly.

You are aware of the doctor and him-_Mako_- staring at you now, eyes bright with worry. They share a look.

"I'm sorry?" the doctor asks.

"No." you utter, "Not you."

"Me?" Mako asks, hurt crossing his face.

Mako is just looking at you, brows furrowed, eyes searching with a concerned pleading.

"_No_," you grow angry, "Not you either! Neither of you."

Breathe.

_Breathe._

But you can't.

Silence crashes down on the room for few seconds, and you find you have also quieted the Bolin From Before Eleven, for the time being.

For some reason, the doctor's persistence of writing every little thing you do and say, gets to you, as his pencil goes _tap tap tap_ against the paper. The sound is too loud for your head.

"You don't have to write that." you snap,"Stop repeating everything I say, and writing everything I do like I'm some crazy person!"

"Bo-"Mako starts, but the doctor waves him off.

"I'm sorry. I know this makes you feel like you are losing control. I know this is frustrating, but I'm just trying to help you, Bolin."

"Then make me remember!" you yell, standing up instantly,"Give me some medicine, stick me with a needle-anything!"

The doctor doesn't respond right away, or snap at you like you would have thought, and neither does Mako, though you can see him fighting himself from refraining to say anything.

You look at them both looking at you- _staring_ at you, and you _hate_ it.

_Breathe._

In.

Out.

You look at Mako. Mako is your Constant.

You sit back in your chair.

"I'm sorry..." you mutter, looking away.

He says nothing still, and you think maybe he talked to Mako beforehand on how to react.

"It is alright, Bolin. It is not your fault, but you must understand that what happened to you, cannot be fixed by a doctor, but by _yourself._ With time, and patience."

You rub your eyes, _"I'm trying."_

"I know, Bo, it's okay." Mako says gently.

But it's really not. After two weeks, it's really not.

Then, the doctor stacks his papers in a row against his leg and puts them on his desk. He spins on his chair and looks at you, elbows resting on his knees.

"Now, Bolin," he says slowly, "I am going to ask you a question, and I want you to take all the time you need before answering, okay? Think, and make sure you are fine with it first before answering."

You swallow, nerves. "Okay."

He sits back in his chair.

"How old are you?"

You blink, "I-I'm sorry? You mean, like, how old do I think I am?"

He shakes his head. "No. How old _are_ you?"

Your heart beats so loud you can hear it echoing. Mako's eyes try desperately to evade your's at the moment.

The silence in the room is too loud. You head goes _thump thump thump._

"I'm..." your temple pulses.

_Eleven, Eleven, Eleven,_ Bolin from Before Eleven whispers, _one more_ _than ten, two more than_ _nine, three more than eight._..

Mako's eyes flick towered you.

"I-I'm..."

You start to sweat.

"I'm two and a half years younger than Mako." you state.

"Yes," the doctor muses, "Which is?"

You can't do this.

You _can't._

You are Eleven, ten, nine, eight, seven, six-

stop.

You are six, and, _Mako, where are Mommy and Daddy?_

You are seven

eight

nine

ten

and

eleven, and_ Mako, where are you, I'm cold..._

stop

But really it's supposed to be, _You're sixteen!_

But it's not, because,

_I'm eleven! I know how old I am, and, well, if I honestly look sixteen to you, then you need some glasses, because I might not remember much of who I am right now, but my age I know for sure, okay?!_

You are ageless.

You are floating.

_"Ughhhh..."_

_"Bo."_

Mako's voice, Mako's hand on your shoulder now.

Constant.

Breathe.

"Bo, did you hear what the doctor said?" his hand is on your back now, rubbing soothing circles across your shoulder-blades and your spine.

You nod, faintly.

You Try, and Trust, and Believe, and Think Before You Answer and Sixteen.

_"...I'm sixteen." _you say finally. Mako smiles, and his hug is so tight that you want it to be another Constant.

"I hate eleven." you mumble.

"I know," he tells you, "I do, too."

"Now, Bolin?" the doctor asks, "Mako has been telling me some things. He says you have been gaining some memories, is that true?"

You nod.

He smiles, and you see he had placed his pencil down, much to your liking. "He tells me you describe the sensations of these memories, as 'weird, chopped up flashes'. That they are painful, and have caused you to lose consciousness more than once."

You nod again, "Um, yes. That's how they feel, to put it simply. I don't really want to explain them, they aren't very pleasant."

"That's fine. You don't have to tell me anything you aren't comfortable with."

_Could've fooled me._

You sigh, suddenly feeling very tired, spent. You want a nap.

Trying to be sixteen again is very exhausting.

"But may I ask you just a few more questions?"

You shrug. Who's gonna stop him?

"Mako also told me that you had a 'dip' in the bay the other day." he says.

"Yes."

"May I ask why?"

"The fish were cool."

"Bolin..."

_"What, Mako?" _you snap, "Did you have to tell him everything?"

"He needs to know how you're feeling, "Mako defends, "This is how to help make you better."

"Maybe I don't wanna get better." you mutter.

"What?" his voice cracks slightly.

"Our lives were horrible anyway. Why do I wanna remember six more years of us suffering, starving to death on the street?" you say, lips thinning,"What's the point?"

"_Because it was with me,_" he whispers, lowly, looking down at his scarf, "It was us against everything. Our lives. You're life. It's who you are."

"Well, maybe I'm not that same person anymore," you huff, "Maybe I'm different now, okay? I can't be who you want- be whoever I used to be." your words explode out of nowhere.

He shakes his head, "Boli-"

"-And, maybe-maybe this is my punishment." you say, "'I can't remember Mom or Dad for the life of me. I can't remember how they looked like, or their voices, or-or for _Spirit's_ sake, which on the them was Fire or Earth or if they were even benders! It's like I never even had parents and was born as a six year old in some back ally. So- so why do I_ deserve_ to remember who _I am? _Huh? Tell me how I should feel about _that!_"

They are looking at you now; the doctor full of pity, and Mako, his face pale and full of hurt.

Suddenly, you are all spent up, all emotions out of you and you can't stay in this room any longer.

You spin on your heels and slam open the door.

"BOLIN!"

You race down the halls as fast as you can, not caring where they take you. The twisting, winding walls like the labyrinth of alleys that fill the underbelly of the city. You ignore your name being continually called out in Mako's voice, and try to drown out the patter of footsteps from behind you.

You don't know where you are going, but all you know is that by the time you fold yourself against a wall and close your eyes, you are floating in the dark, being overtaken by the current so fast that at the moment, you just let it take you, and try to hold your breath. And maybe, if you let it choke you a little bit, you'll remember how it feels to be alive. And then, maybe you'll remember the reason why you should still try.

_Amnesia or not,_

_your conscience will have the same scar._

* * *

_Mako._

* * *

You find him, nearly a half hour later after searching through halls and opening doors and tumbling down staircases; he's tucked under the ugly lights of a storage closet, buried under the smell of cleaning supplies and the wet, tangles of mops.

"Oh, Bo..." you sigh, relief flooding you, "Come here," and you crouch down beside the bucket of water, and brush the dust from his hair, wrapping your arms around him.

"Please, leave me alone." he pulls away, sneezing.

"No..." you shake you head, "I'll never leave you alone. You're my brother." and he looks at you now, and you know he thought you would hate him.

He looks tired, and sad, and you can tell he is trying not to cry for your sake.

"Bolin, it's okay. It really is. No one is mad at you, alright?" you say. Then, "Hey, look at me." you tilt his chin up with your fingers, and make him meet your eyes, "It's okay if you have a hard time remembering Mom and Dad. I do too..." he stiffens in your embrace, "You were only six, Bo. Little kids have a hard time remembering things from that age. It's not your fault, got it?"

He just sighs, and buries his head in Dad's scarf, and you know he doesn't believe you.

You sigh, and rub your hand in his hair. "I'm sorry you feel so frustrated. I wish I could help."

"You can't. Isn't that what the doctor said?" he tells you, "I have to figure this out by _myself._ On my own." his pout normally would make you smile, but it is clouded by self-hate.

"You're never on your own, though. We're brothers. We'll get through this mess together. And we have Korra. And Asami. It's not just us anymore. We have friends."

He sniffs, "They must be really good friends, huh?"

You smile slightly, "Yeah, they are."

"I'm sorry I yelled and got so angry before." he whispers.

You shake your head, "Hey, no...It's not your fault."

"Yes, it is." he says, eyes wet, "I'm floating. I don't know what's wrong with me. I'm floating, and swimming, but I can't bring my mind above the surface, and I'm _drowning."_

You suck in a breath, a bite your lip, feeling helpless.

_"'It's hard when you've lost someone you love, but even harder to love someone who is lost.''" _he says quietly, and your eyes widen. A slight fear takes you are you realize he overheard your conversation the other day with Asami, "And that's me," he tells you, "I'm lost."

"I know." you press you nose in his hair, "But lost things always get found again. It's just a matter of how hard you search."

After a few seconds of just hugging each other, he looks up and rubs his face.

"I lied. I _do_ wanna get better."

You smile, and say that you know.

"Hey," you nudge him,"Let's get out of this place. It smells like dirty mops, and I might start sneezing sparks."

"Can we go to that air island place? I wanna see Korra. I wanna practice bending."

You help him up, and start making your way, feeling hope start to bud in you.

* * *

You start off small, Korra showing him firm stances and stomps with an amazing amount of patience that you know is boiling just beneath the surface.

You find it odd, yet amazing seeing Korra teach.

She's all slow talk and encouraging smiles- so contrary to how you thought her teaching methods would be. To be honest, you had your doubts, and thought Korra would be too impulsive and push him too hard, too fast, and was contemplating asking Lin to teach him.

But you see something glow in his eyes though his frustration while working with Korra, and somehow, you can almost see the old little brother you know and love.

"Like this." you hear Korra say from where you sit and watch on the stairs. She does a simple- or what you assume to be a simple- move. She stamps her foot down hard, creating a little tremor, and a chunk of rock flies up, hovering just at eye level. "See?"

And for a moment, you remember the eleven-year -old him, doing just that. A stamp, and a crack and a, _Look, Mako! Look, look, look! I'm an Earthbender! I can bend, too! I'm like Poppa! I'm like Poppa!_

That had been one of the best moments of your life- both of yours.

And now it was ruining everything.

After demonstrating once more, gaining another frustrated pout and frigidity hands from him, he takes his stance.

He brings his foot up, then down. At it_ looks_ perfect; the stance looks perfect as far as you can tell, but-

_Nothing happens._

You can almost hear his heart shattering. It's hard not to wince from the broken look on his face.

"It's okay, Bo," Korra pats his shoulder, "Just try again."

And he does.

Again.

And again.

Stomp-

nothing.

Stance, arms out, spread legs, stomp-

nothing.

_Nothing._

After fifteen more tries, the sweat starts to mix with the tears on his face and you don't know which is which.

He's a grimy mess; hair all tussled, and a rip on his sleeve from where Korra launched a rock at him, because they both thought, for _some reason, _that it might be a _good_ idea to see if the stress of a rock getting flown at his head- _which was the damn thing that hurt him in the first place, Korra! What's the matter with you?, _you had yelled at her-would be a trigger enough to unblock his bending.

But no.

He had gotten flown back against a wall, dust flying and pebbles crunching, and you nearly had another friggin' heart attack. Flashbacks of the day of the accident, his same scream, his same fall, happening all over again, here in the courtyard.

"_How_ in the Four Nations did that seem like a _good_ idea, Korra!?" you accuse as you run to help him up, "You could have hurt him more!"

"Well, at least I'm trying something!" she defends, "I don't see you helping with his bending!" she points.

"Yeah, 'cause the Earth Kingdom in me really stands out," you snap back, feeling embers lick your tongue.

Bolin stands back up, and brushes off the dust.

"Ugh!" he exclaims, "Would you two just stop it?!" You freeze and look at him, "I'm tired of people getting in fights because of me! It's my fault I'm useless! Not yours, not Korra's! So just be quiet!"

"You're _not_ useless," you nearly hiss in the mist of the tension, "Don't say that."

"Then why can't I do it? We've been practicing for hours!"

"It just takes time, Bolin." Korra says, trying to calm down, "The Spirits know it took me forever to learn Airbending." you give her a comforting look.

"No." he shakes his head," Maybe I don't really have bending. Maybe I lost it."

"What?" you ask.

You _hate_ this. You hate this so much.

Bolin used to be so loving, so trusting. Never skeptical, or bitter, or- or _yelling._

He's right. He isn't the same person. You want to tell yourself you see the old him in his eyes, but you don't.

You understand that he's in pain, and frustrated, but...but you just want your little brother back! Is that too much to ask?

What was the point of all the hell you've been through, if Bolin couldn't remember any of it?

"Maybe I lost it due to the accident! Maybe that guy..." he seems to try to say the words properly, "Maybe that evil dude that takes people's bending away, got me!"

You blink, too shocked to speak. He has no idea what he's talking about.

"No," Korra nearly barks, "We'd never let that happen. We got rid of him, he's gone."

"We'll-we'll maybe he did take it, and that's why-"

"-_No!_" she yells, eyes livid, and you know she is going to cry, "Shut up! No, he's gone! And he's never coming back, so SHUT UP!"

"Korra..." You start, putting a hand out to comfort her.

"No, Mako, not this time." she says, eyes flickering. She huffs and marches off towered the temple, and you know the tears will be shed behind the locked door of her room.

You heave a heavy sigh, and look at Bolin.

He looks very guilty, and sad and hurt, and tired.

You want to make all the hurt go away, _so_ badly.

"I'm tired," he breathes, "I tried for hours and nothing happened. I'm going back to the apartment."

He starts going off, shoulders sagging. It takes everything in you not to stop him and give him a hug, whisper that everything will be alright like when you were little, and have him smile and laugh and say _Okay, Mako._

"Um, Bo?"

"What?" he snaps, spinning around.

"The docks to get off the Island, are _that_ way..." you point in the opposite direction.

He turns his head and looks, "I _knew_ that!" and starts walking with a fast jog like he can't get away fast enough.

You rub a hand across your face, and rub your eyes.

You slowly make it back to the Woman's Dormitory, and climb through her window.

She is there, sitting on her bed, hair all mused, and a hard frown on her face. Dry tears line her cheeks.

Wordlessly, you sit down beside her, and you both intertwine your arms, needed her touch, for her to _understand._

You let the tears flow with her, shamelessly, and her fingers trace your color bone and murmur whispers of love in your ear.

"I just want my little brother back, Korra." you say quietly into her hair, "That's all..."

"I know," she grips your hand, "So do I. I'm sorry."

"I just- I hate how he's acting."

"It's not you, Mako. He's just in pain. He's hurting, and he doesn't mean to take it out on you."

"I know." you wipe your eyes, "And I would do anything- _anything_- to take his pain away. I don't know how to get through to him, Korra. I can't bare to see him like this."

"I guess," she breathes, tucking her head in the crook of your shoulder, "you really don't know what you have till it's gone."

A few silent seconds pass, the bed sheets ruffling, "I feel like I've failed my parents."

"Oh, Mako...No...please don't even think that..."

"But, I-"

"-Shhh...No...C'mon. Let's just rest for a while, and give him a little space for an hour or so to cool off, okay?"

You breathe deeply through your nose, "All I want is to protect him. Why is everything so hard? Why does life, and loving have to _hurt_ so much?

She thinks for a minute with a sad face, then looks you in the eyes, "Because...," she says, "then we wouldn't know what happiness feels like."

"I always thought I'd never remember that feeling before I met you."

"And now?" she breathes.

"I can't imagine my life without you in it."

She kisses your temple, "He'll be okay, Mako. Maybe not tomorrow, or next week. But he will. He just has to be..."

"I wish I could believe that as much as you, Korra." You say, and close your eyes; thoughts of a thirteen- year- old you running around with a red scarf and a younger boy in tow who hovers rocks as he hums and fallows behind you, filling your mind.

_We'll always be brothers forever, right, Mako? No matter what?_

_Right, Bo. No matter what. I promise._

_..._


	9. Unwell

_Note: Sometimes, on rare occasions, a person with amnesia will start hearing voices. The subconscious tries to remember and kind of 'talks' with the person they were 'before' with the forgotten memories to try to gain them back. These voices can be good and encouraging, or bad in some cases, and try to confuse the person more. This can also change the person's personality, somewhat. So what Bolin is feeling and 'hearing' are real symptoms._

_This one is short, and has a bit of Korra's POV._

_Asami and Korra's Pov will be focused more next chapter._

_Warning: Very angsty. Tissues are advised._

* * *

_ -I lock the door  
Turn all the water on  
And bury that sound  
So no one hears anything anymore  
Mirror lie to me, tell me you can see  
Maybe you won't be able to recognize me now  
I know you can feel all the things you steal  
And you're taking it, you're taking it-_

_'Skin and Bones': Marianas Trench_

* * *

_Bolin._

* * *

_Two weeks, three days, and seven hours since you were last eleven-but-really-sixteen._

_But who's counting?_

_Age is but a number._

_Time is limitless._

* * *

The mirror lies to you.

It lies.

Or tells the truth.

You don't remember.

You are floating.

Floating.

With the fish in the bay that are cool.

But not really.

All you know is that you need to remember- something,_ anything._

A face looks back at you through the looking glass.

But your face is not a face is not a face is not a face is not a face.

It's someone else's.

Someone else who is sixseveneightnineteneleven

stop.

Bolin of Before Eleven laughs and calls you a fool.

The knife is in your hand before you know what is happening.

You need to remember.

You need to feel alive.

Hot blade meets the porcelain underbelly of your arm with the delicate cruelty of a baby's first fall.

_'Remember'_

Then, you dig in a bit more.

You wince as the red swells up, crimson and dripping.

It buds on your arm, as your roll up your sleeves, watching as it slides into the sink.

_'Remember'_

Once more, right below the last.

Slide across skin, pucker up red

It doesn't hurt much; more like numbs you, and keeps your head from spinning and thinking too much.

It's easy really; easy as remembering one's own name.

Because it's _impossible_ to forget that.

.

You look in the mirror again.

Nothing's changed.

Your knees give out, as your curl up on the bathroom floor.

You are _drowning_

_slipping_

and

"_MakohelpIneedyou."_

* * *

He's still asleep once you finally force yourself from the bathroom for however long you were in there.

You smile and watch as he snores, a tiny sliver of drool dampening the pillow.

You tiptoe downstairs and make him breakfast. It's the least he deserves.

Or, at least, you_ try_ to.

Trying to find all the spoons and spatulas, the right sized pan, and where he keeps the salt and pepper, all without making a sound when you don't know where anything is, is hard. You're pretty sure Korra can hear you from across the bay and, _Oh, here's the spatula, and what was it doing under a cereal box? Eww there's __a bug in it..._

Your clinking and clanking inevitably draws him from his slumber, as he comes down the steps with mused hair and crusted eyes.

"Hey, you're up early..."

You look up and smile, as he plops down on the couch,"Yeah, just wanna do something nice. What do you want? Eggs?" you wave your newly-found spatula in the air like a prize, "Toast? I can make some jook- I think..."

"Tea first." he moans, tilting his head up on the pillows and making snoring noises that bring chuckles to your lips,_"Please..."_

"Sure thing." and you begin your search for the tea kettle. _No, no, it has to be down there...Where else would it be?_

"Remind me again why I took the earliest morning shift..." he mumbles as he stretches and makes his way over to a chair, seeming to not realize what he had just said.

You want to tell him you _would_ remind him if you could remember, that you'd tell him how good of a cop he is and why it's so worth it...

But you _can't,_ so you just kinda question this in your head, giving him the benefit if the doubt. You're looking at the tea bags, and ask, "Um. Green, or cherry? Or...Lilacs, with honey...?"

You wrinkle your nose. Did you really used to drink this stuff? It smells like stuff girls use to wash their hair with.

"Green, please."

Then, after a moment, you see him scrutinizing you; gaze fixed on your face, traveling down with a curious look in his eye, all the way down to your long-sleeved arms.

You swallow, trying not to show your nerves or anxiously pull at your sleeves, "Um. What? Why are you looking at me like that?"

_'Way to be subtle_,' Bolin of Before Eleven scoffs in your ears.

'Quiet, you' you scold him, but he just laughs more.

'Why do you keep bothering me?'

'_You're not bothering anyone but yourself, Bolin.'_

"Bo?"

"Hmm?"

"You okay?" Mako asks.

"Yeah," the toast pops up and makes you jump slightly, "Why?"

His eyes shine, brows knitted. He sucks in a breath, "Then..._who_ were you just talking to?"

Your eyes go wide. Your heart does a little flutter.

You had said that _out loud?_

_Shit._

"Pabu. He was playing with my feet."

_'Lies!' _Bolin of Before Eleven sings,_ 'C'mon, Bo Bo, you can do better than that, can't you?'_

An unreadable expression crosses Mako's face. You think you see hurt, pity.

"Bolin..." Mako begins slowly, "Pabu is over there on the couch."

You mutter a curse under your breath; you don't have to turn around to know he is right.

You suck in a breath, and hastily hand him a plate with a piece of burnt toast.

He doesn't move to eat it.

He asks you if you are feeling sick, which you reply that, no, you are feeling fine, and the known lie doesn't get called out on.

"You're worrying me."

"You need to eat breakfast. You're going to be late for work," you challenge, eyes locking open his amber, daring.

_I don't want your 'worry'_, you think, _you can keep your worry to yourself. Just eat your damn toast._

He keeps looking at you, eyes holding a flickering battle with you, and you realize that eyes can be the purest, clearest mirrors ever.

_Windows to the soul._

But your soul is stuck in a jail-cell; no lights

"You're not feeling sick?" he asks again.

You shake your head. _Not physically, anyway._

He drops the bomb, first.

But you add the fuel to the fire.

"Then why are you wearing long sleeves?"

You nearly choke on your toast, forcing the bread down your throat.

"What," you exclaim, "just 'cause we're _Fire Nation_, doesn't mean we can't ever get_ cold_?"

"Bolin, it's the _summer, _for Agni's sake!" his voice gets angry, "Just tell me what's wrong!"

You slam your cup down on the table, making him wince, "I'm _fine!_" you yell, "I try to make you a nice breakfast, all with toast and jook, and damn tea that smells like a flower throw up in it, and you act like the friggin' doctor who wants to dope me up with meds and pour my heart out to him!"

He stares at your incredulously. "Well, when you're talking to no one that's there, and wearing friggin' long sleeves in July, I have a right to be suspicious!" he yells.

You're angry.

So,_ so_ angry and you don't know why.

"I can take care of myself!" you tell him.

"Clearly, you can't, Bo. You're acting like you're..."

"Like I'm _what?_" you snarl, "Say it! Just say it!"

He sighs, trying to calm down.

"Sometimes, you make me wish I _never_ woke up!"

You hear the words tear from your mouth before you have time to stop them. They are shrill, hurtful, a huge pit in you rising to the surface.

You're angry.

So_, so_, angry.

And you don't regret it.

His face looks like someone just punched him, like his whole world has shattered. His breath hitches, eyes getting misty.

For some sick reason, you still don't regret it, and you don't know why.

'_Very, very, good,'_ Bolin of Before Eleven complements, _'Hurt him before he can hurt you._'

"I'm going to go try to move some dirt, if that's alright with you." you say, words bitter, "Have a nice day, Officer."

You go down the opening in the floor in a huff, slamming the door so hard that you swear something shakes beneath your feet.

* * *

_Korra_

* * *

You notice something strange about Bolin as he comes back to the courtyard, face all pinched and eyes hard.

A feeling inside you tells you something is very wrong, but you can't pinpoint it.

You advance consciously over to where he is frantically stomping the relentlessly unmoving ground.

Stomp-

nothing.

Arms wide, stance firm, stomp,

_nothing._

_"_I don't care what you say," he says to someone-_not you- _as you watch for a moment, "You're wrong."

"Bolin?" you ask.

"Well, then, I'll try harder!" he exclaims, and you look around, startled.

"Um, Bo? You okay?"

He turns to you now, and his face looks like it's lost part of it's shine. His hair is messy, and his wrinkled sleeves are pulled all the way down, despite the hot summer sun that beats down in the courtyard.

"Hi, Korra. Fine." he mumbles.

You guess whatever happened with him and Mako, that he doesn't want to talk about it. So you just wordlessly take his arms, and spread them a little farther apart, and bend his right arm just so.

"Okay. Try again."

He looks at you, eyes searching for a moment.

"What is it?" you ask.

"Do you love him?" he asks out of nowhere.

You blink, "What?"

"Mako." he says again, voice cracking, "You love him, don't you?"

"I..." you swallow.

You don't know whether this is a great, or horrible thing. A good thing because you think this means he is remembering something from before, but the memories are painful ones, ones you still feel guilty over.

In the end, it is what is it. He looks like he's in such a fragile state at the moment anyway, so what good would it be to try to lie and upset him more?

"Yes, Bo. I do love him very much. We're so happy together." you tell him, and watch his chin dip down, "But you're my best friend, Bolin. And I love you very much, too, just-just not in the same way. That's why I wanna help."

He says nothing for a few seconds, but you notice how his fingers start to curl around his sleeved wrists, as if the skin underneath hurts.

"Mako thinks I'm crazy." he whispers.

This shocks you, "What? No, Bolin, I'm sure that's not it. You just feel like he does." you put an arm on his shoulder, and when he takes his hand to move your's off, you catch a sight of something_ shiny_ on his skin.

Something twists your gut for a moment, but you push it aside, because you _have _to be just seeing things.

"He does," Bolin says, "You don't see how he looks at me."

You bite your lip, feeling helpless. You're the Avatar, but you do not know how to comfort people very well.

"Hey," you find yourself saying in the end, "You must be hungry. Let's take a break from practicing, and go to Narook's, huh?"

"Where?" he looks confused.

"Just trust me," You tell him, "You'll love it."

You try not to show how much you notice that he winces when you take him by the wrist and lead him away.

"They have the best noodles around." you say, to keep yourself calm as the bad feeling starts to grow in your stomach.

He wasn't getting better.

* * *

Narook's does not go very well, to say the least.

It's a huge mess of achy-hearted fans swooning over the poor ex Pro-bender who's lost his memory; one man with a camera slung around his neck who thinks Bolin's blinking, started, face and confused responses to every answer would make a fantastic cover story. If Bei Fong hadn't been hassling you about 'keeping your hands to yourself' and you hadn't been worried about your reputation as the Avatar getting smashed by the next morning's newspaper, you probably would have punched someone.

The crowd settles down, but Bolin seems as timid and buried into himself as ever.

You try to order, but he doesn't know what he wants, and his eyes keep nervously flicking to everyone around the room, scared someone else will ambush him again.

He doesn't once put his arms above the table.

"What's wrong? Aren't you hungry?" you ask.

He shakes his head, "Not really. Thanks, but I ate before I came."

"What did you have?"

He responds after a minute: "Some toast. And jook. And tea."

"But you don't like tea."

"I made it for Mako before work. He had it." he says.

You smile, happy they are communicating more. "That was nice of you."

"Yeah," he mutters and looks down in his lap.

After a few seconds, you feel the need to ask, "Don't you still trust me, Bolin?"

His eyes snap up to you now, startled, "Of course, Korra! We're friends!"

You smile bigger, "Right, we are. So come on, try some noodles. I promise you that your mind will be blown!"

"Okay..." he says shyly, "But pick for me."

"Deal."

The waiting minutes are filled by your stomach growling, and his silence. So you tell him about how your Airbending training is going; anything that doesn't seem forced. You notice by now that questions seem to upset him the most, and he is probably getting a boatload of them from Mako, the doctor, and everyone else, to you let him do the listening.

Listening seems to be working for him.

You tell him about how the four of you saved the city and stopped Amon, and his eyes light up so bright, you can almost believe the old Bolin is back.

You even get him to laugh a bit when you tell him how loud you two burped with each other; leaving out, of course, the heartbreak afterwards.

But when the food comes, he seems to deflate again.

You watch with concern how his eating method seems to contribute of him bringing his steaming bowl of noodles into his lap, below the table. Arms locked, and wrists in, like a protective shield.

You start to eat your noodles, but then, he gets this pained look on his face. His hands shoot up to grip his head, and he groans.

"Bolin?"

He moans again, and fidgets in his seat; the noodles crashing to the floor in a mess of broken plaster and saucy tangles.

"Are you alright?" you ask, dashing to the other side of the table, a hand on his shoulder.

He doesn't respond, just curls his fingers tightly around his wrists and winces. You can guess he's had enough of people asking him that, so you don't press.

When done, you pay for the bill, and bid your goodbyes, going separate ways.

He almost looks happy.

But you can tell something is wrong.

* * *

_Bolin_

* * *

_'You're useless'_, Bolin of Before Eleven sneers at you, his eyes hard, his mouth a twisted smirk in the mirror, _'You can't even bend. You stay with these people and all they do is feel sorry for you.'_

"I know." you whisper.

_'What was that?' _he sings.

"I know!" you say louder, the knife trembling in your hand, "Mako almost found out today."

Red streaks criss-cross your wrists like ribbons, the water in the sink turning crimson.

The hot blade is comfort against your cold skin.

It's almost like you have stitches again.

A door opens and closes downstairs, and you flinch, almost dropping the knife.

"Bo!" he calls out, "I'm back! You home?"

"I'm up here!" you call back, "I just took a shower! Be down in a sec!" You dip your head under the faucet, until it's wet enough to look newly washed.

Telling lies is surprisingly easy when you don't remember yourself enough to know what the truth is.

You press a towel to your wrists for a few minutes until the blood stops flowing, and hide the knife back in its spot. Flashing a grin in the mirror, you search your eyes for any hint of a lie, any giveaway as to what lay beneath. Once you are satisfied, you look away from the mirror and go down the stairs to greet him, never once looking back.

You promised yourself it wouldn't happen again. That you would remember soon.

That was as much of a lie as your smile.

* * *

Mako questions, but does not know the answer. His mind wonders, but his heart denies.

For winter's chill should never be felt in summer, skin guarded by sleeves. And words are meant to be responded by another visible person; imaginary friends are for children eleven years and younger.

Mako wonders, but cannot comprehend. His heart denies the pain that he thinks its sees.

For _better_ is only _better_ when 'I'm fine' is the truth, and not a mask to hide behind.

Mako sees, but he has closed eyes.


	10. Scars

_Note: May I just point out, while I am not a major at psychology, I do have an interest in it, and have done my research. As I stated in a previous chapter, some rare amnesic cases have the patient hearing voices ( good, or bad) as side affects of the stress and trying to gain back memories. The 'Bolin of Before Eleven' that Bolin identifies with, is something that, while is my own idea of how his own experience with this would be, is based off of actual facts, and not just things I am making up for the most part._

_It is also a fact, that when a cutter cuts themselves, it releases a certain chemical to the brain, and makes it feel _good, _so they don't want to stop._

_Thanks again everyone! Please review! :)_

* * *

_-Help, I have done it again  
I have been here many times before  
Hurt myself again today  
And the worst part is there's no one else to blame_

_Ouch I have lost myself again  
Lost myself and I am nowhere to be found,  
Yeah I think that I might break  
I've lost myself again and I feel unsafe-_

_"Breathe Me"-Sia_

* * *

_Two weeks, four days, and ten hours since you were last eleven-but-really-sixteen._

_You are drowning._

_And you don't know if you want anyone to try to pull you out._

_A life with no memory, is like a heart with no beat._

* * *

_Korra_

* * *

You invite them to Air Temple Island one evening for dinner, in hopes of getting Bolin to remember something from the place he used to come so often, and lived in for weeks, while getting more people to talk to him that maybe he can recognize.

Besides, anyone can tell just by looking at the poor guy that he's falling apart. Dark smudges bloom under his dark eyes. Messy hair, and taunt face, and sleeves pulled all the way down even as the heat slurs in the air and bounces off all the buildings.

Mako says he's getting worried, that Bolin's barely talking to him recently, as he pulls you around the corner to sneak in a some desperate kisses and blissful touches that say, _make it better, make it stop hurting, please don't ever leave me_. The tears come with him telling you that when Bolin does talk or respond to him, he just snaps and gets defensive and angry at the littlest things, and locks himself in the bathroom for hours. The salt races down his cheeks when he whispers that Bolin said that he made him wish that he hadn't woken up sometimes, and a glob gets stuck in your throat.

He tells you how Bolin keeps talking to no one that's there, and you painstakingly reply that you've noticed this as well. He responds by clamping his eyes shut so hard and pulling his hair out and whispering, _He does it around you, too? Spirits, I thought it was just me..._

He's losing control of his breathing now, hands shaking as he lays on your bed. You come over to him, and embrace him tight, planting kisses on his cheeks and hair, and _Shhh, Shhh, Mako...I'm here. I'm so sorry._

You both agree to talk to him privately after dinner, whether he likes it or not.

* * *

_Bolin_

* * *

You don't like this place.

Whether it is the concept of 'family' that still sends a pitch in your gut and makes your eyes misty, or all the unfamiliar faces; everything is cramming in your head with a yellow and orange mixture and gusts of air blown at your face and a thousand questions a second that you feel start to make you dizzy.

You're trying to remember all the names that go with the faces-_no, the older one is Jinora, not Ikki, and the_ _baby is Rohan, and whoa that guy has an arrow on his head!_- but the three little kids wiz by so quick, and then the baby cries and, _Mommy, Meelo's being mean to me! Am not! Are too!_

"Why did we come here again? These people are so noisy..." You mumble to Mako. "They don't even eat meat..."

He nudges you, "I told you, Bo. They're the closest thing we have to family. They took us in when our home got destroyed."

"You mean, by that Amon guy? The one in the newspaper with the creepy mask?"

He sighs and nods. "Yeah."

"Oh."

Great, like you needed to feel more guilty.

After a moment, he says, looking down at your arms, to which you stuff them in your lap, "Hey...You know that you can tell me anything, right? No matter what?"

"I know."

But it's a lie. Because you really can't. No with _him_ watching. Bolin of Before Eleven snickers. '_He really doesn't care.'_

"I'm serious," Mako looks at you, " 'Cause lately you've been...I-I mean you been acting like...And I mean, with you trying to remember and everything, you've been kinda distant lately."

"I'm fine, really." You state, feeling the lies coming easier with each drop of blood.

Because he can't find out, he _can't._

He puts hand on your shoulder, "But you're _not,_ Bo."

A flash of anger, and you shrug his hand off, "_Don't_ tell me how I feel." you say, and he blinks. You stand up, "It's too crowded in here. I'm going for a walk."

"No, you can't. Dinner's coming out soon!" he stands up after you.

"Not hungry." you mumble.

"_Bolin._ We're guests. _Sit._"

"Make me."

He seems to suck in a deep breath and close his eyes to stop himself from yelling.

"You're not trying."

"Maybe I'm not, maybe I am, who really cares? I don't really know anything anymore. But I at least thought you'd be happy to get rid of me; more time to spend with Korra."

He sputters, "W-what? What does this have to do with Korra? Why can't you just _talk_ to me?" he exclaims, "Why are you shutting me out, Bo?"

"Because he doesn't like you." You say.

He squints. "_'He'_? You're not making any sense. 'He' who?

"_Bolin.__"_

You're out the door before you can see his reaction, a small smile on your face.

_'Very good work, that was beautiful.' _Bolin of before Eleven is right at the edges of your mind.

_'_I feel bad, though.'

_'Don't be. He doesn't understand us.'_

At the moment, you feel overwhelmed.

Guilty, horrible for lying. Horrible because a part of you likes the pain you're causing him, and you don't know why. And you're confused. So, so _confused_ because Mako's your brother and he's just trying to help-

No, you don't want anyone's help! You don't _need_ help!

Shut up! Why can't Mako just shut up, and leave you alone? You don't want to remember! What's the point? You're a failure anyway!

You're just floating,

_drowning_

and-

Breathe.

In.

Out.

_Flash; 'M-mako, w-why aren't they waking up? W-what's wrong?'_

_Breathe._

_Breathe._

_Breathe._

_No._

You just want your Mom, and your Dad.

You want Mako. Need Mako.

But you just shut him out again, left him in the dining room. Hurt him again like you've been doing for every second for the past two weeks, four days and eleven hours since you've woken up and-

'_Sometimes, you make me wish I _never_ woke up!'_

You're horrible.

You're a horrible, horrible brother and a failure of a son, and you need to be punished.

* * *

_Asami_

* * *

You sigh from where you sit across the room, play with the Airbender kids and waiting for dinner to be ready. You really weren't trying to eavesdrop- or maybe you were- but you heard enough to know it wasn't good. Mako is sitting there with his head in his hands and you try to swallow down the hurt.

Slowly, you get up and walk over, putting a hand on his shoulder.

He jumps.

"Hey..." you try to soothe, "Calm down, it's only me."

"Oh, Asami..." his voice sounds scratchy, "Hi."

"You don't need to pretend for me, you know."

He blinks, but you can see the tinge of red, "What? All I said was 'Hi'."

You pat Mako on the shoulder, "I'll go talk to him."

.

Nothing could have prepared you for what you were about to see.

You go down the hall, looking for Bolin, and turn a corner to hear banging and his voice behind the bathroom door.

"Bolin...?" you ask, "It's me Asami. Are you alright?"

Nothing.

You don't wait for answer. Something makes you barge right in, and-

You nearly scream out.

He spins around to face you, sleeves pulled up to his elbows, knife in hand and bloody cuts shining on his arms.

"ASAMI!" he exclaims, dropping the knife, "This-this isn't what it looks like! I-I mean I can't...I have to...Please don't tell Mako, _please_."

You try to catch your breath, eyes blinking.

"_B-Bolin..._W-what? What are you-? _Stop! Just stop!_"

You race over and take the knife away, holding him back as he lunges for it.

"Stop! Give it back! I need it!" he yells.

"Bolin, no, please!"

"No! Give it to me!"

"No! _Why?_" you whisper, "Why are you doing this to yourself?"

He swallows, closing his eyes, "Because I _deserve_ it."

"Oh, Bolin...No... No, come here." and before you know it, you're embracing him tighter than you've ever hugged anybody before, and you don't even care if you are getting his blood on you, no, no, no, you don't care because Bolin needs you. "Shhhh...it's okay." You tell him. Now, in a stern voice, "You listen to me, right now." his eyes wearily look up towered you, "This is _not_ your fault. _Nothing _you are going through right now, is your fault. Do you understand?"

He doesn't respond.

_"Bolin."_

_"What._"

"I want to hear you _say_ it. Tell me that this isn't your fault."

"You don't understand what it's like." he whispers.

Your face softens, "You're right, I don't; I can't and I'm sorry. But you have people who love you, Bolin, and we can't stand seeing you like this."

He closes his eyes.

Tears are blurring your vision now, but you think you see him nod slightly and shut his eyes tighter.

"No. Don't _shake your head at me_. I want to hear you say it." you demand, and your own voice scares you.

His fists clench, and you feel his blood drip on your hands. Your heart is hammering in your chest.

He opens his eyes once more, and parts his trembling lips.

"..._It w-wasn't my fault..."_ It's quiet and heartbreaking, but Bolin still manages to mumble the sentence out. He lets the frown fall away from his mouth, his face pale and sad.

"_Please_ don't tell Mako..." he begs, "I don't want him to hurt anymore. _I_ don't want to hurt anymore..."

"I have to tell him, Bolin," you say quietly, rubbing a hand through his tazzeld hair. "You need help."

"I'm _fine._" It's the most quiet, desperate two words you've ever heard.

"Oh, Bolin..." you don't know how long you wrap your arms around him again, just letting his head rest on your shoulder and his tears dampen your hair.

* * *

Mako will find that his eyes only see what he wants; and now fully open, they see red mixed with white in the delicately cruel way a fallen Fox Antelope stains the first snow of winter.

So sad, and pitiful, but true none the less, and his heart freezes cold with realization that was right in front of him.

He saw the signs, but was too afraid.

'_I'm fine'_ translates to '_Help me'_ in the most heartbreaking voice.

Mako now sees, but he wishes he were blind.

* * *

_Bolin_

* * *

You told Asami that it wasn't your fault, but that was just a lie to get her to leave.

After she hugged you, she lead you to your old room, and told you to sit and wait.

You guess she went to go find Mako, and you don't really care. You don't really care about a lot of things right now.

You're just _tired._

You figure Mako is going to come barging in any minute now, so you better get some more cuts in before he tells you how much he hates you.

Asami took your first knife away, but you had another one in your pocket, a small one that you can fold open. It barely even looks like a knife from the outer part, but it's nice, and makes a cleaner, smoother cut.

Criss-cross.

And it's fun, in a way.

Almost like painting a picture with red ink.

Bolin of Before Eleven isn't bothering you at the moment as you slide it back and forth across the delicate skin that used to be so translucent and caked in dirt when you were younger-before eleven.

_See,_ you want to scream at the other Bolin, but you think you've scared him away, _Who's in control now, bitch?! It's my body and I can do what I want with it! You'll never win! Never-_

_"Ahh!" _You yelp. You went in a bit too deep.

That_ hurt._

You didn't mean to make it _bleed_ that much and-

Mako.

_"MakohelpIneedyou." _you whisper.

So much red and-

He's laughing! That little Bolin is laughing at you!

"Shut up!" you scream, "Shut the hell up! I'm in control!"

He's laughing and laughing and calling you useless and-

"Fine! I can do it! Look!" You say, "LOOK!"

You dig in deeper than ever before.

"_Aaahhhhh!"_

Just then, the door flings open, and Mako is there looking horrified.

_"BOLIN!"_ he screams, "_STOP!"_

_"No!" _You're yelling back at him now, digging the blade in, "Shut up! Why won't everyone just _shut the hell up_ and let me think!? I hate you! I hate you, leave me alone! I hate myself, I hate everyone! Go away!"

"_B-Bolin..._" he's giving you an anxious look now, "Give me the knife."

"No! No, no, no!" you're thrashing around, fighting him for it, as he lunges on top of you, trying to grasp it.

Suddenly he gets it in his hand, then you swing and punch him in the face, and he stumbles back a bit.

'_Yes, keep fighting!_" Bolin of Before Eleven screams at you, _'He hates you! He thinks you're crazy! He wants to lock you away! You can't let him win!'_

_"_You hate me! You hate me! You just want me dead!" You're screaming, and crying, and everything hurts, and you're all spent up and kind of dizzy because there's alot of blood and-

"No! No, _please_, Bo, don't say that!" he's crying now, too, and has a red mark where you hit him, and you're holding the knife now and shaking, shaking, _shaking_ all over and everything _hurts._

Why does living hurt so much?

"I love you _so_ much, Bo. So, _so_, much, can't you see that?"

You're breathing ragged now, and hurt and- and- and-

_"Help me."_

_"Bo..." _he takes a cautious step to you.

"I can't- I can't-I can't," You gasp, "I can't do this anymore. Help me, Mako, help me,_ please!_" You fall to your knees on the floor.

He comes down beside you, holding you, "Bo, shh...It's okay, I'm right here," he swallows, "You need to let go of the knife for me. I need you to give me the knife, o-okay?"

You're shaking your head. "_I can't."_

_"_Bo, yes, you can. I not leaving you, I promise. I love you so much, okay? Now I'm just gonna move your fingers, okay?"

"No, stop! I need it! He'll be mad! He'll hate me forever! I need the knife! I deserve it!"

You scream at him and try to run and hide, but gets you in his arms and doesn't let go.

You struggle and hit his shoulder, but he lets you. He just hugs you tighter and makes '_shhhh'_ noises and tells you he's here.

"Why won't you just let me cut? Why won't you just let me do it? Why do you hate me? It hurts, Mako," You cry," Make it stop hurting, make everything stop, and make _him_ go away!"

"Who's 'he'?" he whispers.

"The other Bolin. The one who's younger than eleven." You tell him, as you bury your head in his scarf, "He's really mean and wants me to cut, and I think he wants me to _die._" you whisper.

He makes a pained noise from the back of his throat and pulls you tighter, "I love you so, so much," he says into your hair, "Please don't do this..."

"I _can't._ I don't know how to stop. It _hurts_ so much..." you dig your fingers in his scarf. "I can't remember anything so this is my punishment."

He's rubbing his hands on your head now, "No, Bolin, listen to me. We'll get through this together. We'll remember together. Just please...Please don't do this… I'm so proud of you, you've come a long way after…they left…. You're strong, Bo… Please don't do this to yourself… Please…"

_"I'm so sorry." _you whisper, and then you blank out.

* * *

You don't recall much of how or when you woke up after Mako found out about your cutting, but ever since then, these past few days he's been watching you like a messanger- hawk. He's been making you eat, and watching when you enter the bathroom, and he hid all the kitchen knifes, never taking his eyes off you. You don't really talk much, just feel tired, and you know this worries him more. You only reply to half the things he says because most of the questions are the same about how you're feeling.

Yesterday morning you got so fend up with him trying to ask you how you were feeling, that you just exploded.

"LIKE SHIT!" you had screamed, and through a vase at him.

That made him stop talking for a bit.

He won't let you leave the apartment unless he goes with you, and he makes you keep the bandages on your arms. Korra tried desperately to heal the cuts, but she said they were too old and scaring, and something about the _chi_ not being right.

She said part of her not being able to heal the cuts, is because you _don't want_ her to. This made Mako cry a lot and he locked himself in his room for a while.

You feel like the worse brother ever. All you wanted to do was remember.

In the end, you can't take Mako's hovering anymore, so you go down into the gym, sitting on a mat and looking at your wrists.

After a few minutes, you hear him come up behind you.

"I told you I wanted to be alone."

"And I told you that you're never alone as long as I live. You don't have to talk to me or even look at me, but I'm not letting you out of my sight when you're like this."

You spin around to face him, tears still leaving salty tracks on your cheeks. "Like what, Mako? Useless? Crazy? Nothing but a failure and a disappointment of a brother who can't even remember himself?"

He takes a step toward you, his face etched with pain for you. "Hurt. Lost." he looks down and delicately takes one of your red-scared wrists, "In enough pain to do _this_ to yourself."

You squeeze your eyes shut and grab your head.

"I can't do this anymore."

"Do what?" he asks sadly.

"This. Life. _Everything._ Try to be this person you want, that you remember." you explain, turning your head away, "I'm sorry, Mako, but the brother you want me to be is just a memory."

"I don't believe that." he tells you, holding your face so you look at him, wiping your tears with the pads of his thumbs,"When I look at you, I still see the old Bolin trying to shine through, and I know he's strong enough to come back one of these days. You might not believe in yourself, Bo, but _I_ do. You're my entire world, and I'm not giving up on you."

You dip your head down, ashamed, "It hurts so much. I just...I just don't-" you gasp and collapse against him, and he holds you up. "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! I can't do it! I don't care!" you cry as he holds you.

All you hear is your tears against him and feel you scars burning and feel the red scarf get wrapped around your neck.

Maybe red can mean something good.

"We'll get through this together," he promises, "I swear to you, Bo. I love you so much."


	11. From Darkness into Light

**"A flashback**_ is a psychological phenomenon in which an individual has a sudden, usually vivid, recollection of a past experience. The term is used particularly when the memory is recalled involuntarily, and/or when it is so intense that the person "relives" the experience, unable to fully recognize it as memory and not something that is happening in "real time."_

_._

_"A **trauma trigger** is an experience that triggers a traumatic memory in someone who has experienced trauma. A trigger is thus a troubling reminder of a traumatic event, although the trigger itself need not be frightening or traumatic, the person may feel overwhelmed."_

* * *

_-I know you,_

_who are you now?_

_Look into my eyes if you can't remember_

_Do you remember?_

_I can see, I can still find_

_You're the only voice my heart can recognize_

_I'll never be the same_

_I'm caught inside the memories _

_of promises of yesterdays_

_And I belong to you_

_I can't just walk away_

_'cause after loving you_

_I can never be the same-_

_'Never be the Same': Red_

* * *

_Three weeks, and nine hours since you were last eleven-but-really-sixteen._

_Pain has to be felt, before the relief._

_Darkness must come before the light._

_The rain will fall down like tears, and the sun will dry it all away._

* * *

_"Then you will know the Truth, and the Truth will set you free.": John 8:32_

* * *

It's the Spring Solstice, the time when everyone with a speck of dirt in their blood comes to gather and celebrate the Earth Kingdom traditions.

The Spring Solstice bringing back very vague and blurry flashes of a four, five, six year- old you surrounded by a sea of shimmering greens and yellows and Daddy's eyes. Outside, children's laughter and eagerness for their parents to let them stay up extra late to listen to stories about their childhood back home, whispers in souls and up through the pulsing ground like heartbeats. The streets are littered with ribbons that wave like grass in the wind from where you watch from the high windows of the arena, wishing you could be a part of it all._ Bean curd puffs_ are sold on every corner; children's mouths sticky with _pau buns_, their laughter echoing for all to hear. Rocks bent into dazzling sculptures, Kyoshi warriors coming out to put on parades with twisting fans and glowing paint, marching down the blocks that could be seen for miles.

You ask Mako why you don't do down and celebrate, for something as significant as these festivities in honor of half your culture are sure to conjure up memories.

His face betrays a flash of sorrow. He weaves his fingers into his scarf, dipping his chin into the fabric, and mumbles something about it being too painful, that he'd never be allowed within a five mile radius with his amber eyes and crimson flames.

You're dumbfounded, exclaiming with burning wrists that you are just as much Fire Nation as he is, and with the same amount of 'dirt in the blood' as him, despite your contrasting looks and elements. It's for _everyone_ who is Earth Kingdom, you stress, but Mako just grunts, and you know he's had to deal with this every single year. He must have had to explain this to you when you were younger, and it's that moment when you truly know that innocent is bliss.

He brings the scarf up to cover his mouth, and says that it's _different_ for Firebenders who are also Earth Kingdom. People see them differently.

_Different._ You're beginning to realize that 'different' means nearly the same as 'harder' and 'not fair'.

You give a huff, and frustrated pout, exclaiming the unfairness of it all.

His tender eyes shine at you, and, _not everyone has a heart as good as you, Bo._

You sigh, wearily_, _clenching you scared wrists._ Yeah_,_ well, maybe watching all those Earthbenders down there will make me remember how to bend, Mako!_

He seems to consider for a moment, mentally working the pros and cons of letting you leave the apartment after nearly five days of under wrist-house arrest and his relentless hovering eyes.

You've only cut once since he found out. Yesterday morning, when he went out for work. You were feeling horrible, and took a kitchen knife, making two more cuts on each wrist in the bathroom because you deserved it for being such a burden and _remember remember rem_e_mber._ If Mako noticed the fresh marks, he didn't make it known. The relief from drawing blood is only short-lived, however, and makes you feel worse afterward. Mako noticed your behavior, though, and it makes the cycle go on repeat.

"I think-"

A scream rings out from down the street, just as a shatter of glass is heard.

You both dash to the window to see an unmistakable coating of ice work its way around a shop, with a moca skinned gangster smirking at his frosty bending, sending people fleeing.

"No..." Mako breathes, "Don't tell me it's them..."

You blink up at him, fear twisting your stomach.

It's the Spring Solstice. A day not to be missed.

Especially by the Traids.

Mako gets a call not even two minutes later about chaos involving Red Monsoons and Agni Kai intervening on the day's festivities a bit away, down on the corner of Bagermole Ave. and Flying Boar St.

You start to fallow him into the bedroom where he hastily puts on his uniform. You insist that you are coming with him.

Mako immediately shakes his head, protests flying out of his mouth that it's too chaotic down there;_Too many people, who know's what could happen. You're only sixteen, Bolin. There is no way I'm letting you go down there into that insanity._

You clench your fists. "I'm not letting you go alone. I can help. Besides, I'll be _seventeen_ in two months, won't I?"_  
_

At that last statement, he turns his eyes up to you, a shared, silent look passing between you both.

"I'm sorry, Bo. But no. It's too dangerous." He grabs his helmet from the table, "Civilians aren't allowed to intervene; vigilantism is illegal, And,"he turns to face you now,"I already nearly lost you once this month; I don't know what I'd do if anything happened to you."

He's down the opening in the floor after that, running full speed across the gym to where his motorcycle in parked just outside. He turns around in anger when he sees you're right behind him.

"_Bolin._ Would it kill you to listen to me for once? I said it's too dangerous. Now go back inside, _now._"

You reach into your pocket, and smugly dangle his keys from your fingers.

"You might need this." You say.

He sputters slightly, "What-? How did you...? I keep those in my bedside table drawer!"

"They were by the bathroom sink."

He grumbles, snatching them from your hand, just as you get on the back of the bike with a content chuckle, and, _How did you get so stubborn?_

_I've learnt from the best._

"I'm not slowing down for you." he states.

"Just drive, officer. Justice is getting cold."

He mutters a curse. "You're staying away._ Far away,_ in Saikhan's car, understand? Do not get out of it."

You plop his helmet on his head, "No idea who he is, but duly noted, sir."

* * *

You both get down to the scene to see a mob a green eyes fleeing in all directions. Some rocks from civilians are being bent and used in defense, but the officers send the people back with barks of orders to_ please stay back, please evacuate the scene, _and before one patch of street can be seen through the packed, panicking crowd, a stand erupts in flames.

Then another.

And another.

_"Get down!"_ Mako yanks you to the ground, your stomach flat against the trembling pavement, his arms shielding you from the glass and flames.

_"Mako-!_"

"-Hush, Bo! Don't move!" he yells in your ear. He grunts and you think he's hurt, but something is stinging across the back of your leg, a cold sweat forming on your body, and _maybe this wasn't such a good idea?_

_'Whatever made you think that?' he _sneers_, __'The 'too dangerous' part, or the fact that bombs are practically going off? You can't even bend! You're gonna get Mako killed."_

"Leave me alone!_"_

_"_Bo._.._?" Mako starts, his hands shielding your head from the debree. His eyes dart to you in concern.

"I-"

Another burst of flames, and a shatter.

Someone screams. Mako grips you tighter. "_Darn it!_ Why did I let you come?!"

You wish you weren't useless.

A whole row of lighter fluid gone ablaze from a trio of Agni Kias. One saying,_ Hey, my Gran Gran was a mu__d_-_slinger. Seems rude that I ain't invited, huh, fellas?_ He turns to the other two, who show razer-sharp smiles and lightning-fueled eyes.

_Let's get this celebration started!_

Firery eruptions send people to the ground, and shatter the street like Earthquakes as they go off. More screams from helpless people, yells for _Mommy! Daddy!_, and the ground shakes once more with the boom of the gas tanks exploding.

The police move in, only to be bombarded by an onslaught of razer-tipped icicles flying through the air.

The ground gets coated in a think sheet of black ice, and metelbenders go sliding, unable to see where the street starts and the ice ends.

Mako orders you to _go hide in the alley ways_, _and do not come out, you hear me?_ and sprints to the scene, sending a flurry of flames at the ice in effort to melt it off the road, and melt the icicles that rain down.

_Why don't you PoPos leave this to use, huh? These Fire Crackers are on our Turf._ A moca colored, snowy-eyed gangster drawls, indicating the Agni Kais, with his water whip at the ready.

You hide behind the bend of a building, watching, just enough to see, but not be seen.

"Why put these innocent people in danger?" Mako demands, "Today was a holiday, and these Earth Kingdom civilians were just trying to enjoy their day!"

The waterbender laughs, flashing a gummy grin, "See Bat Brows, we got nothing on them mud-slingers. It's just that when war is declared, we gotta defend our turf. It's just how we work."

"Yeah, well, you can either _leave now," _Mako heats his hands,_ "_or claim a new turf behind bars!"

The humidity starts to drop from all the water freezing in the air, and you shiver.

The gangster says nothing, but motions by dipping his head down, and seems to nod something.

You watch with trembling hands as another waterbender, hiding by the shadows of a remnants of a food stand, freezes a sparkling amount of water, hard as the rocks that were just shaking. An evil smile twist his lips, and a wave of his hand morphs the ice into a dozen three- feet long points

Second later, you hear a swarm of something whizzing right behind you, heading towered Mako's back.

No.

Mako is still barking demands, in turn to the gangster's threats, totally unaware, and-

_No._

_'Yes.'_

_"Mako, look out!"_

The scream erupts from your throat like an earthquake. The fear and love fueling the stances subconsciously as your legs and arms move simultaneously.

Stance

_Twelve. _

_Starving, so hungry. Cold. Need money._

_"What do you say about doing some muscle tonight, huh, Bolin? C'mon, you're old enough, no one gonna find out. Meet me by the pier at ten."_

arms out

_Thirteen_

_Running from police and you both getting slammed in cells, 'Rotten kids are going nowhere but in prison. Orphanages too filled up."_

_You're reaching your hands through the bars of the back of a truck filled with kids as the gangsters try to take you away, and Mako is screaming your name, and running, running, running, to catch up, but he trips, and the truck speeds up, and you're alone for three days in a world of horror and blood and woman's soft, hungry touches, and men's pale, drunken breath. You forget what love is for three days._

spread legs

_Fourteen_

_Yuans passed, and high laughter accompanied with cactus-juice and beer in dark corners of the Head Quarters; girls in short robes gaining kisses and rough touches from men with beady, blood- shot eyes, putrid breath, and gropey hands, tangling legs underneath tables until morning. Mako's hands shielding your eyes, with whispers not to look, to 'go in the other room, I'll be back in a sec.'_

_"Promise?'_

_'I promise.'_

_Hunger _

_Pain_

_loneliness  
_

_Blood sweat tears_

_Until__ one day:_

_"Mako! Do you who that is? It's Toza! Earthbending Captain of the Borquipines! He's my hero!"_

_"I just thought you should know, you don't have to throw the fight."_

_"Please? We can't just leave him for snake food!"_

_"I named him 'Pabu'!"_

_"You're right Shady. I do have to look out for my brother, and I think this is what's best for him."_

_"I'm so glad we're not criminals anymore!"_

_"What can I say? I had a good feeling!"_

stomp-

_Fifteen__._

_Living in a home with beds and food and safety and train, train, train, and _

_"The Fire Ferrets."_

_"What?'_

_"Why don't we call our team 'The Fire Ferrets'?"_

_Blaring lights, cheering crowd, thrill of success; "Ladies and gentleman, let's all welcome the brand new team with a pair of Fire and Earth brothers who got this far all on their own; the FIRE FERRETS!"_

_Sixteen._

_"There you are, I've been looking everywhere for you! Don't worry,Toza, she's with me."  
._

_._

_Flash; 'Stamp, and a crack and a, '__Look, Mako! Look, look, look! I'm an Earthbender! I can bend, too! I'm like Poppa! I'm like Poppa!'_

_"Ahhhhhhhhh!"_

Stars dance in your vision, the world going blurry, but you stand strong and try not to pass out, no, no, no you _can't_ because Mako needs you and-.

_"Bolin!"_

The swarm of icicles make contact with the earth wall- yes, the earth wall that _you_ created-your trembling arms still out stretched-and shatter apart into pieces.

The wall is not even half a foot away from Mako, but it's solid enough, and has to be about six feet tall- and _how?_

_"M-mako..."_ you gape, spots dotting your vision,"D-did I just...?"

Mako stares at you incredulously, eyes wide, and mouth slowly morphing into a huge smile.

"Yeah, Bo." He exclaims, "You _did._ You saved me."

The gangster calls you a horrible word that starts with a 'B' that you are the son of, and exclaims, "That little runt's an Earthbender!?"

Then another, "Hey, Zolt? Ain't they two of the kids who used ta work f'ya?"

A beefy, Fire Nation looking man steps out of the shadows, "Yeah, they are. Rotten kids. If it wasn't for me, you'd have both frozen to death years ago."

Mako just sends a flame at the three of them and they dodge.

"I'd say we turned out pretty great in the end." he remarks, "What's the matter, Zolt? Can't get anymore kids to hire without your bending?"

"Why you little _weasel-snake_! I _made_ you what you are, boy!" the man yells, fire in his eyes, just as two metelbending cops twist their wires around the three of them, "I taught you everything you know!"

"Actually," Mako says as the officers get them tied up, and others go to assist the wounded, "You're wrong. You never taught me how to _love_, to _protect_, to be a _big_ _brother._ That was all my parents and Bo."

"Well, from the looks of the kid's wrists, you didn't do a very good job of it," his words are icy, and he smiles a lopsided grin.

Pain throbs your stomach. _Well, shit._

Mako gives you a heartbreaking look, and you stuff your hands in your armpits.

"Don't listen to him, Mako." you say, the dizziness finally fading,"He's wrong. You're the best big brother ever."

"Thank's, Bo. You, too."

After a blur of the officers rounding up gangsters, and the wounded being treated and healed and sent to the hospital, after the scene being taped off and investigated and you waiting for Mako to be done and go home, he tells you how proud he is of you finally remembering how to bend.

You give a shaky smile. You lead him away from everyone and bring him to a quiet spot.

You take a deep breath.

_"I think I remember everything._"

* * *

To be continued... :)


	12. The Lost Get Found

_"...Things happened  
when you were little. Things you  
don't remember now, and don't want  
to. But they need to escape,_

_need to worm their way out_  
_of that dark place in your brain_  
_where you keep them stashed."_  
― Ellen Hopkins, _Fallout_

* * *

It's getting dark by the time you and Mako get back to your apartment, a slight patter of rain drumming on the windows, fogging the glass as streaks of thunder crash and illuminate the sky.

The weather outside prevents you from running to the Air Temple Island and attacking Korra in a hug with every little detail your overwhelmed brain can recollect.

_Hi, my name is Bolin! I'm sixteen, and when I was eleventwelvethirteenfourteenfiftheen, this happened to me!_

But since you cannot dig a whole under the stormy bay, through the Island, to the amazing Avatar( but ,dear Agni, you wish you could) you sit with Mako on the couch, knees touching, cups of tea in hand, and bittersweet smiles curling your mouths as nostalgia takes hold.

You tell him _everything._

You tell him everything you remember, from eleven to sixteen:

The fear and hunger that molded inside you as you both morphed against the alleyways, whispering love into each other's souls for will and warmth, quieting the pleading wines from your empty tummies.

The pride and joy when you finally made the earth tremble; the thrill of rocks shifting under your command, the power to fight back, to not be useless anymore, and

_I'm like Poppa!_

Gangsters flashing beady eyes and twisted smiles, with promises of cash and food in exchange for very 'touchy' delights and ashy-tipped, powdery-packaged jobs that got you both slammed in cells; sunken, grainy mug-shots and files to boot, and, _M-mako, I'm scared. I thought you said we wouldn't get caught!_

Running running runnning and fear fear fear; broken Blood Promises from the Traids cost you dearly; punishments never merciful, permanent reminders on skin.

The three days during your thirteenth year when you forget what love is; the color from Mako's face visibly drains when you mention the less-than-savory details. Leaving out how the sight of one of those 'Rat Cars' still makes you shiver with the feeling of fingers on your skin and smoky air.

The wanting of parents that will never return. The Stares, and Looks.

The pain pain pain and loneliness.

The blood sweat tears, until one day:

Spirit-sent Toza

and

_"The Fire Ferrets._" Pabu chirped and nuzzled against your shoulder. You with your head cocked the side in thought.

Mako ceased punching the bag for a moment, quenching his heated hands as he wipes his brow with a towel. He gives you a confused look, _"What?"_

_"Why don't we call our team 'The Fire Ferrets'?"_ you ask. Pabu looks very pleased.

Mako's brows furrow in thought, gazing at the orange and white patterned uniform with a still barley-contained look as if he just woke up and couldn't believe he wasn't still in an alley.

A tender smile, _"I couldn't agree more."_

The blaring lights, and dinging bells. The love for the game and pride at how far you've both come.

A confused looking girl arguing with Toza, clad in blue and fuzzy wraps. Moca-colored skin and icy eyes that shone innocence, yet the weight of the world.

_"Name's 'Bolin', by the way."_

_"'Korra'."_

"I'm _so_ proud of you, Bo." he hugs you as you both lay in the couch. "I told you you'd be okay soon. I never gave up on you."

_"I'm found._" you whisper, and close your eyes against his scarf;

swimming,

swimming

shore

* * *

_The rain will fall down like tears, and the sun will dry it all away._

_I once was lost_

_was blind_

_but now_

_I see..._

* * *

_Mako_

* * *

The sun shines bright the next morning, creating hues and ribbons of light through the window panes.

He's sitting on the windowsill, gazing down at the bay when you come down for breakfast.

"You're up early..." you yawn, heating a flame on the stove.

He keeps his gaze locked outside, "Couldn't sleep. Too excited. ...Too afraid..."

You turn to him, "Afraid?" you reply, "Of what?"

His fingers drag across the glass, "That if I fall asleep...I'll forget again."

You sigh and run a hand through your hair, "Bo...I promise you that you won't forget. You're exhausted and need to rest." you get out two bowls from the cabinet, "Did you even sleep at all last night?"

"Hmm...not really." he says, turning to you with shadowed eyes.

You sigh and shake your head,"Bud, you gotta stop worrying; you're fine now. Go sleep before you fall over."

"Later. Promise." he says, looking down at his hands. "Can you make fried eggs, please?"

"You got it." you go retrieve them from the fridge.

A few silence seconds pass, the hissing from the eggs popping, comforting to your ears.

"I'm ready." he says suddenly. You turn to him and see him staring down at his wrists, the puckered red marks standing out against the pale flesh and green veins.

"For what?"

"I want Korra to heal my wrists now. I'm_ ready._" His eyes shine with determination.

You nearly drop the egg on your feet.

Your eyes get misty with tears and you go over to him, instantly wrapping him up in a hug.

You sniff and wipe your face. "We'll go right after breakfast, o-okay?"

"Okay, Mako."

_Okay._

* * *

_I can see_

_the light_

_I'm free _

_from my_

_sin_

_from my_

_shame_

_Sun, come warm_

_my soul_

_I'm ready_

* * *

Korra's blue orb of healing light illuminates as it trails up and down your wrists.

Her hug lasted for about five full minutes when you told her the good news, she blabbering her excitement in your ears, smiles and squeals of_ I knew you could do it, Bolin! I'm so happy for you! We so gotta celebrate!_

You had gladly accepted the offer, eager to get back to your old self.

"Almost done," she says as she works on your self-destruction.

"Okay. Thank you so much, Korra."

You've never seen so much relief and happiness on Mako's face as when you told Mako this morning that you wanted Korra to heal you.

But...

"_Wait."_

Korra freezes. "What?" Mako looks equally confused.

You run your finger over the very first cut you made, the one that started it all. It's a thin one, because you had been unsure and scared, straight across your right wrist.

"Keep this one." you say,"This one has to stay."

"Bolin..."

Mako looks hurt and ready to object, "What? No, Bo! You said you wanted them healed. Why would you-"

You look at him.

"So I always know what I have in my life. Because you really don't know what you have until it's taken from you." The words feel sure in your mouth as Mako studies you, "It has to stay."

Korra and Mako share a look, and Mako heaves a long sigh after a moment.

"You sure?"

You nod, "Yes."

"Alright."

And Korra gives you a small smile, and every mark but the First is pureed and erased.

You feel free.

* * *

_The healing_

_has begun_

* * *

"I-I changed my mind! I don't know if I'm ready for this!"

You're starting to sweat, fear filling you as you look out at the arena, uniform bunched in your hands.

"Bo."

"I don't know if I can do this!" You exclaim frantically, "M-maybe I need more time to practice bending, and-"

"_Bo."_

Breathe.

In.

Out.

Mako.

"Take a deep breath, and relax, okay?" he puts a hand on your shoulder, squeezing. "You _can_ do this. I know you can."

"B-but what if-"

"-No, 'buts'. Everything's gonna be fine." He puts his helmet on, with a reassuring smile.

"B-but what if I g-get hurt again, and-"

"-Bolin," Korra interjects, "We're all gonna be playing right beside you. Would we ever let you get hurt?"

"No..."

"'Course not! Now let's get out there and show those old farts who the original Fire Ferrets really are!"

"We are not old farts, kid! Some of us are just old!" Toza grumbles.

You suck in a huge breath and force yourself to put your helmet on your head.

"Yeah, okay. I can do this..."

It's you, Korra, and Mako, verses the made up team of Toza as the Earthbender, Iroh as the Firebender, and Tenzin's sister Kya as the Waterbender. Asami is the ref, and the audience consists of the Airbending family, Narook, and Lady Katara.

You all get in positions.

The scoreboard counts down.

_I can do this..._

Three

_I can do this._

two

_I can do this!_

one

_ding!_

_"Aaaaannnndd they're off, folks!" _Asami calls over the speaker, _"Elements fly as both teams give it their all!"_

You dodge a blast of fire that just narrowly misses your head. Korra covers and goes on offence as she sprays Iroh with a wave of water.

Mako is blasting fire at the three of them, and Toza stumbles.

"Show me what'cha got, Old Fart!" Mako teases him.

Toza smirks, "Kid, you lose this, and you're cleaning out my attic this weekend, got it?"

"Sure, whatever you say!" he teases.

You feel frozen, unable to do anything. You haven't really moved much, just trembling the earth disc beside you.

You roll away from a water blast, and Mako slides as disc hits him in the chest.

"Mako!" you freeze and glance over at him.

He makes a pained sound, and slowly gets up.

"I'm fine!" he calls, "Keep playing."

A breath of relief leaves you.

_"AAAANNNDDD so far, the Old Farts are in the lead!"_ Asami's voice rings out!

"Hey!" Toza grumbles.

"I'm only thirty-one!" Iroh defends.

"I resent that!" Kya's water flies towered your direction.

_"Just play, people!"_

_"Yeah! Play, play, play!"_ Ikki and Meelo chant.

"Gooooo Ferrets!" Jinora sings.

"Knock 'em dead! Make them eat dust!" Tenzin bellows, his robes flying all over.

Iroh gets pushed into the water by a fast water whip, followed by a fire stream, and cheers roar.

_"Fire Ferrets in the lead!"_

Just then, time seems to freeze.

Toza is knocked back a zone, and Kya is distracted.

_Stance_

_arms out _

_spread legs _

_ stomp_

You feel the movements like a natural part of your body; the disks float to your command, and with two swipes of your arms, you knock Kya and Toza all the way down into the drink.

_"WWHOOOAAA! Did you see that, folks?! A double whammy from Bolin! Let me hear you screaaaammmm!"_

_"Bolin!"_

_"Bolin!"_

_"Bolin!"_

_"AND THE FIRE FERRRETS WIN THE MATCH!"_

Just then, two pairs of arms attack you in the biggest hug of your life. A blur of dark hair and purple eye shadow adds to the mix as Asami crashes on the group hug, too.

"You did it, Bo! You won!" a billion loving voices say in your ears, smiles and hugs and love so pure.

"No, I did because of you guys," you say, "I'm where I'm meant to be"

* * *

_I once was lost_

_was blind_

_but now_

_I see..._

* * *

Memory is a funny thing.

We can choose to ignore, and try to suppress, all the bad moments in our life, letting the past consume.

We spend our whole lives trying to be something we're not, what we think other people want us to be.

But the truth is, every one of us is lost, broken, _floating_ in our own way, looking to be found.

But each of us also has people, if not one person, who shines their light and is waiting for us for when we return.

'_Where ever you are is my home. The only one I'm waiting for is you. I'd wait a lifetime for you. I'll wait as long as it takes.'_

Circumstances do not define you, limitations do not condemn. Words are only empty bitterness, but actions speak loud.

A heart has an identity, as long as it knows its home.

Memory is a funny thing. Always changing, blurry, never certain. Yet it makes us who we are.

But one thing is for sure.

The lost always get found.

.

_There," _she said. She rocked him back and forth_. "There, you foolish, beautiful boy who wants to change the world. There, there. And who could keep from loving you? Who could keep from loving a boy so brave and true?" _― Kate DiCamillo, The Magician's Elephant


End file.
